She  raised  her  light  riding-cane  and  cut  him  once  across 
the  face.     (See  page  34  6. ) 


The  HUMAN  TOUCH 


A  Sab  of 


EDITH    M.    NICHOLL 

Illustrated  by 

CHARLES    COPELAND 


BOSTON  0 

LOTHROP    PUBLISHING     COMPANY 


Copyright,  1905,  by  Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Company. 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London. 

All  rights  reserved. 


THE   HUMAN  TOUCH. 


Published,  April,  1905. 


Noriooob  fJrraa 

Berwick  and  Smith  Companv 

Norwood,  Mass. 

U.S.A. 


- 

o2>  '/Sy/ 

\* 


"If  God  had  committed  some  orphan  child  to  thee,  wouldst 
thou  have  neglected  it?  Now  He  hath  given  thee  to  thyself, 
and  saith  :  '  I  have  none  other  more  worthy  of  trust  than  thee  ; 
keep  this  man  such  as  he  was  made  by  nature — reverent,  faith 
ful,  high,  unterrified,  unshaken  of  passions,  untroubled.'  ' 

EPICTETUS. 


M578472 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

She  raised    her   light  riding-cane   and  cut   him  once 

across  the  face Frontispiece 

Page 
She  had  forgotten  everything   in  the  mad  rapture  of 

the  race 92 

Sylvia  swayed  in  her  seat,   and  David  .  .  .  passed  a 

supporting  arm  around  her 28O 

"You  sure  is  gettin1  sassy  for  your  years,  Bob!"    .    .  329 


THE    HUMAN    TOUCH 

CHAPTER     I 

ON  s'amuse  tou jours ! " 
The     speaker     shrugged     his     shoulders 
slightly,  and  knocked  the  ashes  from  the  end 
of  a  remarkably  fine  cigar. 

"Agreed.  But  that's  not  precisely  this  native's 
idea  of  domestic  bliss." 

"  That  the  wife  should  achieve  nervous  prostra 
tion,  writ  large,  and  demand  a  year  in  Europe  in 
order  to  rest  up  from  social  duties,  leaving  you  to 
business  cares — and  other  matters  less  fatiguing? 
Perhaps  not,  my  boy — but  you  have  your  consola 
tions.  Your  wife  is  in  the  way  of  conferring  on 
you — indirectly,  of  course — letters  patent  of  nobility ; 
that  is,  of  the  Four  Hundred.  What  further  can  a 
Western  cattle-king  desire?" 

The  individual  thus  addressed  threw  himself  back 
in  his  chair  and  raised  a  hand,  rather  small,  but 
strong  and  shapely,  as  was  his  entire  person,  to  pull 
at  the  time-honoured  resource  of  troubled  man ;  but  it 
was  gone — at  her  command — a  sacrifice  to  Style.  He 


2  THE   HUMAN   TOUGH 

laughed  bitterly,  looking  suddenly  old  and  hard,  his 
clear  young  eyes  narrowing  under  their  dark  brows. 

"Oh,  you're  too  primitive,  my  dear  fellow!"  con 
tinued  his  mentor,  glancing  at  him  quizzically. 

Now  Buckley  had  known  Kingdon  for  a  consider 
able  period,  as  clubmen  know  one  another,  but  the 
conversation  that  had  taken  place  between  them  to-day 
had  revealed  impulses  and  cravings  in  the  latter's 
nature  the  existence  of  which  the  older  man  had  never 
before  suspected.  He  had  always  found  Kingdon 
an  eminently  satisfactory  person.  His  good  looks 
were  of  the  kind  to  appeal  to  the  artistic  dilettante; 
for  it  was  rare  indeed  to  find  such  richness  of  flesh 
colouring  in  combination  with  hair  of  so  peculiar  a 
shade  of  brown,  and  features  well-nigh  perfect.  In 
short,  to  Buckley  the  young  Westerner  represented  a 
delightfully  human  type — perfectly  harmonious,  joy 
ous  and  joy-giving. 

"  When  a  fellow  finds  the  everlasting  old  round 
becoming  stale,"  he  would  assert,  "David's  the  chap 
to  renew  his  capacity  to  take  it  all  in  again." 

While  this  cultured  man  of  the  world  was  familiar 
with  his  companion's  marked  business  ability,  he  had 
felt  toward  him  much  as  one  feels  toward  a  charming 
boy  gifted  with  enough  brains  not  to  be  a  bore.  But 
of  bitterness,  irony,  strong  passion,  or  in  fact  any 


THE   HUMAN   XUUCH  3 

emotion  other  than  that  of  a  superficial  nature,  he 
had  not  deemed  him  capable.  And  yet  he  might  have 
been  aware  that  he  had  not  fully  understood  Kingdon, 
for  the  latter  was  secretive  to  an  extraordinary  degree, 
and  his  faculty  for  avoiding  personalities  was  nothing 
short  of  the  marvellous. 

At  length  Buckley  spoke  again. 

"No  kids,  I  suppose?" 

"Children?     No!" 

The  changeful  face  of  the  speaker  was  dark  with 
emotion.  Buckley  was  becoming  interested,  but  stuck 
to  his  characteristically  indifferent  drawl,  fearful  of 
scaring  so  shy  a  bird. 

"How  did  it  come  about?" 

"  What  ?     The  marriage  ?  " 

David  sprang  up  with  one  of  his  alert  movements, 
plunging  his  hands  deep  down  into  his  pockets. 

"Propinquity,  I  guess,"  he  said,  with  unwonted 
bitterness.  "  Style,  a  fine  figure " 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  all  know  you're  a  bit  of  a  fool  where 
a  fine  woman's  concerned,  old  man!" 

"I  may  have  been  once,  but  I  am  not  now,"  was 
the  brusque  retort.  "That's  where  you're  all  out." 

"Oh,  come  now,"  said  Buckley,  smiling  indul 
gently,  "  can  we  forbear  conducting  ourselves  prettily 
to  a  pretty  woman — eh,  David?" 


4  THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

He  was  surprised  to  find  how  pleased  he  was  to 
receive  once  more  the  responsive  smile  which,  until 
this  day,  had  never  failed  to  greet  his  gentle  gibing. 

"  Propinquity,"  repeated  David,  "  mixed  with 
ambition,  the  entree  into  the  best  society  I  then  knew 
of — that  which  groans  and  struggles  in  the  agonies 
of  the  Correct  Thing.  In  the  second-rate  cities  of 
the  Middle  West  we  take  the  disease  in  a  more  aggra 
vated  form  than  you  do ;  it  goes  harder  with  us.  Ah, 
we  were  in  the  swim  then,  Buckley,  I  can  assure  you !  " 
His  smile  flashed  and  died  again.  "  My  wife  did  not 
like  New  Mexico,  and  I  did  not  think,  when  I  married, 
that  I  should  have  to  continue  to  stick  so  closely  to 
the  Territory;  but  circumstances  arose  which  made 
sticking  necessary." 

"Circumstances?"  put  in  the  other  man9  with 
deliberate  derision ;  "  I  shouldn't  have  believed  that 
circumstances  could  exercise  compulsion  over  such 
a  spoiled  son  of  fortune  as  yourself,  David." 

David  looked  down,  and  for  a  while  answered 
nothing. 

"  There  are  things  a  fellow  has  to  do,"  he  remarked, 
at  length,  with  more  brevity  than  elegance. 

Buckley  was  reduced  to  a  contemplative  silence. 
Associating  duty  with  a  sober  demeanour  and  an  aver 
sion  to  feminine  society,  he  found  difficulty  in  connect- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  5 

ing  it  with  Kingdon's  charming  personality  and 
frank  enjoyment  of  the  good  things  of  life. 

"  Clairette — I'm  not  responsible  for  the  highfalut- 
ing  name,  my  dear  fellow;  such  is  considered  chic  in 
our  circle — had  not  been  raised  in  the  lap  of  luxury, 
anyway,  and  she  could  have  anything  she  wanted,  in 
reason;  it  was  only  for  part  of  the  year,  moreover, 
that  she  had  to  live  in  the  Territory.  But  her  little 
world  was  everything  to  her.  Home,  and  those 
other  things,  meant  nothing  in  comparison.  To  me 
they  have  always  meant  a  good  deal.  Buckley,  I 
really  believe  I  could  meet  any  decent  woman  half 
way." 

Seriously,  questioningly,  he  raised  his  eyes — clear 
and  rounded  as  those  of  a  very  young  boy,  of  a  brown 
many  shades  lighter  than  his  sombre  brows,  and  with 
childish,  up-curling  lashes.  It  was  these  eyes,  a  cer 
tain  pathetic  droop  noticeable  at  times  in  the  flexible 
lips  and  a  grieved  lifting  of  the  eyebrows,  to  which 
was  probably  due  his  intermittent  air  of  extreme 
youthfulness. 

Buckley  with  difficulty  restrained  himself  from 
bursting  into  a  laugh;  but  he  rejoined  with  a  serious 
ness  equal  to  that  of  his  companion: 

"  But  your  wife  is  evidently  an  especially  and  par 
ticularly  decent  woman,  David." 


6  THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  Hang  it  all — yes !  It's  domestic  affection  and  all 
that  kind  of  thing  that  I  mean." 

"  Well,  my  dear  fellow,  if  you  do  not  care  for  each 
other,  you  have  the  remedy  in  your  own  hands.  You 
settle  these  matrimonial  unpleasantnesses  with  great 
dexterity  and  despatch  in  your  section,  I  have  always 
understood.  Write  and  suggest  to  her  that  you 
agree  to  differ.  One  divorce  or  divorcee  more  or  less 
—what's  the  odds?" 

Kingdon's  glance  fell  again,  and  the  elder  man 
noted — not  for  the  first  time,  but  now  with  amused 
and  affectionate  interest — the  childlike  pathos  in  that 
downward  look.  Presently  an  idea  struck  him  in 
regard  to  the  matter,  and  he  said : 

"Perhaps  she  cares  a  little  for  you  still,  David?" 

"  She  claims  to  do  so,"  he  replied,  voice  and  face 
grown  suddenly  old  and  stern. 

"Yet  she  leaves  you  for  a  year  at  a  time  to  your 
business  cares,  and  other  amusements,  two  or  three 
trips  to  this  gay  village  included  ?  " 

"  Business  trips,"  emphasised  Kingdon,  grimly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  my  dear  boy ;  business  trips,  of  course — 
with  the  side  issues."  He  arose  and  stretched  him 
self.  Both  men  laughed.  Then  Kingdon  reached 
for  his  overcoat. 

"  Well,  I'm  off  down-town.     Have  to  make  one  of 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  7 

the  ravening  crowd  in  a  department  store — stuff 
needed  for  the  ranches." 

"  The  gods  defend  you,  then !  Oh,  by  the  bye," 
and  Buckley  took  a  card  from  the  rack,  "  have  an 
invite  for  you  here — swell  affair,  to-night — dancing. 
How  will  that  suit  you  ?  " 

"  First-rate !     So-long,  for  the  present." 

It  was  fashionably  late  that  evening  when  Kingdon 
and  Buckley  made  their  way  toward  the  spot  where 
Mrs.  Newman  and  her  oldest  daughter  stood,  receiv 
ing  their  guests.  As  David's  eyes  fell  upon  the 
younger  woman,  he  uttered  a  low  ejaculation. 

A  form  of  rounded  slenderness,  possessing  the 
exquisite  grace  with  which  birth  and  breeding  have 
as  much  to  do  as  art;  a  face  of  somewhat  irregular 
yet  high-bred  beauty,  holding  probably  no  appeal  in 
it  for  the  masses ;  a  charming,  rippling  mouth ;  a 
firm  little  chin ;  a  delicate,  slightly  arched  nose ;  deep, 
soft  eyes  whose  colour  it  was  hard  to  determine;  a 
low,  square  forehead,  dazzlingly  white,  from  which 
the  hair  was  swept  in  a  shining,  gold-dusted  mass — 
all  this  formed  a  picture  which  a  man,  sensitive  to  a 
certain  order  of  beauty,  having  once  seen,  was  not 
likely  to  forget. 

And  David  had  already  seen — that  very  afternoon. 
Habituated  as  he  was  to  a  coarser  mould  of  women, 


8  THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

he  had  recognised  this  one,  at  once,  as  a  being  from 
another  sphere. 

The  episode  in  which  she  had  figured  had  been  a 
brief  one;  the  scene,  the  department  store  with  its 
usual  selfish,  greedy-eyed,  feminine  crowd;  a  baby 
nearly  killed  by  a  swinging  door,  and  saved  only  by 
the  intervention  of  Miss  Newman's  slender  arm,  rein 
forced  by  David's  never  failing  alacrity;  a  package 
dropped  and  promptly  recovered  by  him;  a  smile  of 
acknowledgment — that  was  all. 

Buckley,  observing  that  his  friend's  eyes  were  fixed 
with  interest  upon  the  girl,  explained: 

"Fine  young  woman,  Miss  Newman,  but  guilty  of 
the  Unpardonable  Sin:  she's  shy.  A  virtue  of  the 
most  distinguished,  I  call  it,  in  this  age.  It  is  also 
affirmed  that  she  is  cold  and  proud." 

David  took  in,  with  his  usual  acuteness,  the  contra 
diction  in  the  constant  variation  of  colour  in  her 
delicate  cheek  to  the  quiet  dignity  of  her  bearing; 
and  remembering  also  a  certain  flash  in  those  soft 
eyes,  exclaimed: 

"  If  that  girl's  cold,  then "  and  paused 

expressively. 

"Then  all  indications  fail,  eh?  You're  right,  my 
boy.  I've  known  her  since  she  was  two  foot  nothing, 
and  she's  not  cold.  Shy,  that's  all — overweighted  by 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  9 

that  tremendous  mother  and  those  sisters  of  hers. 
See  her  in  her  own  element,  and  she's  the  brightest 
creature!  Needs  encouragement,  congenial  sur 
roundings,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  How  did  she  come  by  a  special  *  element '  ?  " 
"  The  father.  He  was  a  scholar  as  well  as  a  very 
fastidious  gentleman  of  the  old  school ;  educated  this 
girl  himself.  He  was  of  the  critical,  sensitive  kind — 
lacking  in  the  power  of  expression  unless  his  environ 
ment  were  favourable.  Sylvia  is  her  father  over 
again.  He  stood  immensely  high  in  appreciative 
circles." 

"Where  does  the  Four  Hundred  come  in?" 

"  Both  sides ;  the  mother  was  a  Miss "  Here 

he  mentioned  a  name  before  which  the  One  Hundred 
and  Fifty  bows  the  knee. 

Kingdon  was  introduced,  and  passed  on.  '  That 
Miss  Newman  had  recognised  him  he  was  positive,  for 
the  slight  hesitancy  of  her  manner,  and  a  sudden 
wave  of  colour  upon  his  presentation,  had  not  escaped 
his  keen  perceptions. 

Buckley  was  promptly  swallowed  up  in  the  social 
whirlpool,  drawing  his  Western  friend  with  him. 
Buckley  soon  perceived  that  he  could  safely  cast  him 
loose,  and,  not  being  a  dancing  man  himself,  he  soon 
lost  sight  of  his  protege.  Later,  as  he  was  making 


10          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

his  way  out  with  another  man,  he  caught  sight  of 
David  once  more,  in  the  act  of  saving  his  partner  from 
a  bad  fall.  His  partner  was  Miss  Newman.  Both 
men  involuntarily  smiled  as  they  observed  the  dex 
terity  with  which  he  deposited  her  in  precisely  the 
right  place,  possessed  himself  of  her  fan,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  use  it  for  her  benefit  in  precisely  the  right 
manner. 

"Knows  the  ropes,  doesn't  he?"  commented  Buck 
ley's  acquaintance.  "  Have  you  led  him  around 
much?  " 

"  Not  into  this  kind  of  thing  before.  But,  you 
see,  he's  so  very  presentable." 

"Presentable?  Lord,  yes!  Has  the  dollars,  too. 
But  although  he's  deuced  good  company,  I've  a 
notion  he  has  also  the  deuce  of  a  temper  laid  away 
somewhere,  and  that  the  girl  he  finally  takes  up  with 
had  better  know  him  pretty  well  first." 

"  The  girl  he  takes  up  with  ?  "  echoed  Buckley,  with 
a  laugh.  "  Why,  he's  been  married  for  years ! " 

The  other  man  gave  vent  to  an  expletive,  then 
asked : 

"Where's  his  wife?" 

"  On  the  usual  European  trip." 

"More  fool  she!  Well,  what  do  you  say  to  the 
Union  League  and  a  rubber?  " 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  11 

But  whether  Kingdom's  wife  were  a  fool  or  no 
appeared  to  be  of  no  pressing  consequence  to  that 
young  man.  His  gaiety  was  as  infectious  as  that  of 
an  attractive  boy.  Although  perfectly  realising  his 
environment  and  all  that  it  implied,  he  seemed  to  be 
beatifically  unaware  of  the  fact  that,  as  a  rank  out 
sider,  he  was  being  very  specially  favoured;  and  his 
absolute  naturalness  and  unfeigned  enjoyment  in  the 
midst  of  so  much  boredom  were,  to  others  beside  Sylvia 
Newman,  as  the  wind  from  his  own  "bald  prairie" 
blowing  through  jaded  streets. 


CHAPTER     II 

MRS.  NEWMAN,  in  spite  of  her  long 
assured  position  in  society,  was  one  of 
those  restless  women  who  are  not  content 
with  being  what  they  are,  but  are  forever  strain 
ing  after  what  they  never  can  be.  Thus  she  spent 
her  days  and  a  large  portion  of  her  nights  mentally 
on  tiptoe,  in  order  that  she  might  be  sure  of  catching 
every  winged  fad  and  fancy  of  fashion  in  its  passing. 
Her  two  younger  daughters  were  handsome  girls, 
after  the  approved  modern  style,  adopting  always, 
with  a  beautiful  docility,  any  form  of  pleasure 
ordained  by  the  whim  of  the  hour,  no  matter  how 
ugly,  inconvenient,  or  ill-suited  to  its  environment. 
In  short,  these  girls  were  all  that  they  ought  to  be, 
had  their  mother  only  been  willing  to  let  well  alone. 
But  she  was  not.  She  had  arranged  certain  careers 
for  them  before  they  left  school.  She  had  sedulously 
cultivated  the  delusion  that  Etta  possessed  histrionic 
talent ;  and  the  girl,  pleased  with  the  notion,  figured 
extensively  in  private  theatricals,  was  described  in  the 
Society  columns  as  "  the  talented  Miss  Newman,"  and 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  13 

had  oven  dreamed  of  herself  as  a  coming  Langtry  or 
Potter.  But  mother  and  daughter  were  secretly 
wearying  somewhat  of  the  flattery  of  satellites,  when 
a  diversion  was  afforded  just  in  time  to  enable  Mrs. 
Newman  to  sigh,  "  Only  think  what  a  future  my 
Etta  has  thrown  away  for  Mr.  Van  Schoolen  ! "  Van 
Schoolen  was  one  of  the  finest  cross-country  riders 
connected  with  the  Long  Island  Hunt,  and  a  member 
of  the  Tuxedo  Club. 

While  Cora,  the  youngest,  desired  greatly  to  be  a 
fine  actress,  she  was  cajoled  into  the  belief  that  she 
was  a  musical  prodigy.  It  was  contrary  to  Mrs. 
Newman's  tenets  that  her  daughters  should  possess 
similar  tastes  and  talents,  and  "  Violin  solo  by  Miss 
Cora  Newman,  piano  obligato  by  Miss  Newman  "  was 
conspicuous  on  the  programmes  of  numerous  concerts 
given  for  fashionable  charities.  Meantime,  nature 
had  designed  Etta  and  Cora  primarily  as  compo 
nent  parts  of  her  regular  annual  output  of  common 
place  women  of  fashion,  and  she  pursued  her  original 
intention,  undismayed  by  maternal  vagaries. 

And  Sylvia?  Mrs.  Newman  had  planned  for  her 
future  also.  The  girl  had  inherited  a  remarkably 
fine  intellect  from  her  father,  and  from  this  rock  of 
assurance  Mrs.  Newman  had  launched  her  highest 
hopes.  She  had  dreamed  glorious  dreams  of  this 


14          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

daughter's  success  in  general  scholastic  attainment, 
literature,  and  what  not.  She  would  form  a  salon — • 
a  real  Parisian  salon — of  which  Sylvia  should  be  the 
bright,  particular  star.  The  best  intellects  of  both 
hemispheres  should  be  drawn  to  frequent  it.  As  for 
matrimony,  that  should  not  be  included  in  Sylvia's 
role.  She  should  be  cast  for  one  whose  conditions 
were  to  be  of  greater  distinction,  and  which  held  out 
finer  possibilities  than  marriage. 

When  the  year  of  mourning,  spent  in  Europe,  came 
to  an  end,  Mrs.  Newman  launched  her  gifted  young 
daughter  upon  society  with  a  blatant  flourish.  Sylvia 
faithfully  endeavoured  to  fulfil  her  mother's  expecta 
tions,  but  she  was  hampered  by  a  hopeless  lack  of  self- 
confidence.  Until  she  was  seventeen,  she  had  had  no 
audience  but  her  father — an  audience  as  sympathetic 
as  it  was  critical.  In  the  life  which  was  now  hers, 
discouragement  or  uncomprehending  criticism  smote 
her  like  a  freezing  blast,  benumbing  her  faculties  and 
making  endeavour  doubly  difficult.  Even  her  ex 
quisite  voice  never  happened  to  be  at  its  best  on  show 
occasions. 

To  complete  Mrs.  Newman's  despair,  Sylvia's  mind 
was  critical  and  reasonable  to  a  degree  which  the  poor 
lady,  had  she  not  felt  the  expression  to  be  out  of  date, 
would  have  described  as  "  unfeminine."  She  revolted 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  15 

from  false  enthusiasms  and  shams  of  nil  kinds,  and 
the  methods  pursued  by  the  anxious  mother  in  accom 
plishing  her  purposes  with  the  younger  daughters 
proved  ineffectual  with  this  one.  Had  she  not  per 
sisted  in  her  scoldings,  warnings,  exhortations,  and 
flatteries,  she  might  not  so  signally  have  failed  in  her 
efforts  to  make  of  Sylvia  a  desirable  ornament  to  her 
own  coterie.  As  it  was,  her  touch  upon  the  girl's  life 
had  the  effect  of  a  rough,  blunt-fingered  hand  on  a 
sensitive  plant. 

But  notwithstanding  her  disappointment,  Mrs. 
Newman  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  in  her  own  heart 
that  for  unselfish  helpfulness  and  sound  common 
sense  Sylvia  was  her  most  reliable  standby.  Her 
bluestocking  propensities  did  not  seem  to  impair  her 
usefulness  in  matters  pertaining  to  the  management 
of  the  household  and  other  practical  affairs,  in  which 
Etta  and  Cora  took  little  interest  and  would  assume 
no  responsibility;  for  Sylvia  was  decidedly  domestic 
in  her  tastes. 

And  the  family  was  affectionate  in  its  relations, 
when  it  had  leisure  for  any.  But  in  a  life  such  as 
that  led  by  the  Newmans  and  hundreds  of  others, 
family  affections  suffer,  and  outside  intimacies  are 
apt  to  be  stifled  at  birth.  Existence  is  conducted  in 
reception-rooms,  so  to  speak. 


16          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Sylvia  longed  for  a  fuller  response,  a  deeper 
recognition  than  was  afforded  her  nature  by  the  life 
with  which  her  mother  surrounded  her,  and  it  was 
only  when,  upon  rare  occasions,  she  could  be  spared 
to  go  amongst  her  father's  chosen  friends — that 
charming,  semi-Bohemian,  yet  eminently  select  society 
upon  which  New  York  with  justice  prides  herself — 
the  society  of  brains,  little  leisure,  and  moderate  to 
small  means — that  she  was  able  to  free  herself  of  the 
restraint  that  usually  hampered  her,  and  scintillate 
in  her  full  brilliancy.  Here  she  was  able  to  sustain 
sincere  relations,  without  paying  the  penalty  of  being 
misunderstood. 

It  was  probably  the  same  relief,  found  in  David 
Kingdon's  intense  humanity  and  apparent  simplicity, 
that  sent  her  upstairs  that  night  with  the  light  of 
girlish  laughter  still  in  her  eyes.  That  part  of  her 
being  which  was  as  replete  with  human  impulses, 
sympathies,  and  affections  as  his  own,  sprang  to  meet 
him  in  the  unconscious  attraction  of  resemblance. 
Long  repressed  by  her  mother's  exhausting  demands 
in  directions  from  which  her  critical  sense  revolted, 
they  turned  toward  the  newcomer  as  the  sunflower 
turns  to  the  sun. 

And  on  this  young  iftan  from  the  West  social 
laurels  soon  began  to  shower.  Young  men  and  maid- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  17 

ens,  old  men  and  matrons,  took  more  or  less  interest 
in  him,  the  more  because  he  was  a  rather  provoking 
departure  from  the  usually  accepted  type  of  West 
erner.  The  son  of  a  mother  of  French  Huguenot 
descent  and  a  pettifogging  English  lawyer  was  liable 
to  present  some  uncommon  characteristics  for  the  en- 
livcnmcnt  of  a  bored  world.  It  was  vaguely  rumoured 
that  he  was  a  married  man,  but  if  the  rumour  ever 
reached  the  ears  of  any  of  the  numerous  women  on 
whom  he  danced  attendance  in  his  easy  yet  perfunctory 
manner,  they  were  content  to  let  the  matter  rest,  only 
wishing  that  he  were  a  trifle  more  inclined  toward  con 
centration.  For  all  his  faculties,  perceptive  and 
receptive,  were  centred  on  the  one  woman ;  and  her, 
owing  to  Buckley's  absence  at  a  country-house  party, 
he  rarely  met.  Thus  his  very  popularity  grew  to  be 
a  source  of  irritation  to  him. 

Once,  by  good  luck,  he  met  her  at  one  of  those 
studios  in  which  congenial  souls  are  in  the  habit  of 
gathering  informally.  Kingdons'  entree  was  obtained 
by  his  skill  in  rendering  light,  French  chansons  with 
the  grace,  vivacity,  and  pathos  of  the  original; 
although,  greatly  to  his  surprise,  he  found  that  the 
interchange  of  ideas  rather  than  music  was  the  object 
of  the  so-called  reception.  It  must  be  confessed  that, 
ubiquitous  and  adaptive  as  he  was,  he  at  first  found 


18          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

himself  a  little  out  of  his  element  in  a  social  gathering 
which  amused  itself  very  well  without  the  assistance  of 
the  games  and  toys  in  his  world  considered  indispen 
sable  for  the  entertainment  of  grown  people.  More 
especially  did  he  feel  this  when  he  perceived  how 
entirely  in  her  element  Sylvia  Newman  was ;  the  arch 
and  gay  Sylvia  of  the  ball  was  presenting  herself  to 
him  in  a  new  aspect.  He  stood  outside  of  discussions 
in  which  she  bore  well  her  part,  watching  half  jeal 
ously  the  keen  play  of  intellect  in  her  expressive  face ; 
and  it  was  not  until  she  had  been  asked  to  sing,  and 
he,  the  provincial  who  loathed  "  classical  music,"  had 
had  the  very  soul  drawn  out  of  him  by  the  strains  of 
Handel's  "Largo,"  that  he  found  his  chance  to 
approach  her.  When  she  looked  up,  it  was  with  some 
thing  of  his  own  direct,  childlike  gaze,  but  Sylvia's 
dark  eyes  possessed  the  softness  which  results  from 
slightty  imperfect  vision.  For  the  first  time  David 
noticed  that  they  were  not  entirely  brown ;  they  made 
him  think  of  rock-bound  pools  in  the  mountains,  upon 
the  face  of  whose  waters  plays  the  blue  radiance  of 
the  unclouded  Western  sky.  As  they  smiled  back 
into  his  own  eyes,  the  azure  light  in  them  was  plainly 
to  be  discerned.  For  the  moment  he  almost  forgot  his 
fears,  his  anxiety  lest  he  should  fall  short  of  her 
intellectual  standard.  Like  two  happy  children,  they 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  19 

leaned  upon  the  piano  and  talked,  they  hardly  knew 
of  what;  only  the  words  came  easily,  and  ideas  half 
framed  found  their  mates  ere  they  were  uttered.  It 
was  the  lightest  interchange,  but  through  it  all  ran 
the  golden  thread  of  that  elusive  thing  called  sym 
pathy. 

And  yet — afterward  he  realised  that  the  easy  yet 
courteous  audacity  which  was  his  birthright,  and 
which  he  could  no  more  throw  off  than  a  handsome 
pigeon  can  help  strutting  and  bowing  in  the  sun,  was 
unworthy  of  her  to  whom  it  was  addressed;  realised 
also  that  no  other  woman  had  ever  so  moved  him, 
whilst  making  him  feel  that  he  and  she  belonged  to 
spheres  wide  as  the  poles  asunder.  It  was  not  his 
marriage  that  thus  separated  them,  he  would  have 
declared,  for  this  barrier  sank  into  insignificance 
beside  other  things  that  he  could  neither  name  nor 
number.  He  recognised  in  her  something  finer  than 
anything  he  had  ever  encountered  in  woman,  and 
wished  that  she*  in  her  turn  could  discover  that  there 
was,  as  he  expressed  it  to  himself,  "more  to  him"  than 
appeared  on  the  surface.  He  felt  that  she  must  in 
evitably  misjudge  him.  Secretive  and  inexpansive,  the 
yearning  for  utterance,  for  complete  understanding 
by  another,  had  never  before  possessed  him  so  strongly. 

One  day  Mrs.  De  Lancey,  one  of  New  York's  fash- 


20          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

ionable  matrons  with  whom  he  was  a  particular  favour 
ite,  began  to  talk  of  the  Newman  girls,  praising  Sylvia 
effusively,  and  finally  asking  David  if  he  had  ever 
seen  her  on  horseback. 

Now  David  was  gifted  with  remarkable  self-control, 
but  at  the  attractive  possibilities  suggested  by  this 
query  he  found  it  hard  to  keep  the  fire  out  of  eyes 
and  voice.  Morning  after  morning  he  had  partially 
satisfied  his  craving  for  freedom  by  throwing  himself 
across  a  good  horse  and  getting  out  of  the  city  by 
the  shortest  route  possible.  By  this  means  alone,  he 
declared,  could  he  survive  late  hours  and  close  rooms. 

"No?"  continued  the  lady.  "Well,  then,  you 
have  never  seen  a  woman  ride.  I  don't  care  what  you 
say  about  Western  riding" — putting  up  her  hand  to 
avoid  contradiction — "  but " 

"  But,"  David  managed  to  interpose,  with  due 
meekness,  "I  claim  nothing  but  utility  for  Western 
horsemanship.  Grace?  The  gods  know  better!" 

"  Then  you  are  in  a  proper  frame  of  mind  to  appre 
ciate  Miss  Newman.  Hers  is  riding — no  Park  school 
sham.  She  rides  in  the  Park  nearly  every  morning. 
I  suppose  you  despise  our  Park?  Well,  never  mind. 
What's  more,  she  owns  what  Mr.  De  Lancey  claims 
to  be  the  finest  saddler  this  side  Mason  and  Dixon's 
line — none  of  your  bumpety,  bobtailed  English  imita- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  21 

tions,  but  a  real  Southern  saddle-horse  with  half  a 
dozen  gaits  to  his  name.  Sylvia's  as  proud  of  Vir 
ginia  Boy's  blue  ribbons  at  the  Horse  Show  as  other 
girls  are  of  their  frocks.  She's  able  to  indulge  her 
personal  tastes,  as  her  father  saw  to  it  that  some  of 
his  property  should  be  secured  to  her  at  his  death. 
She  could  set  up  a  miniature  establishment  of  her  own, 
if  she  chose,  but  she's  too  good  a  daughter.  I  don't 
know  what  Mrs.  Newman  would  do  without  her,  though 
she  is  the  crumpled  rose-leaf  in  that  gorgeous  lady's 
lot." 

"  Granted  the  rose-leaf,  but  I  fail  to  observe  the 
crumple." 

"  So  do  I.     But  some  mothers  are  so  queer !  " 

After  this,  David  frequented  the  despised  Park, 
selecting  for  himself  a  gaited  saddler.  One  dull 
morning,  when  the  bridle  path  was  almost  deserted, 
his  ear  caught  the  light  beat  of  horse's  hoofs  in  his 
rear.  He  knew  by  the  sound  that  the  animal  was  not 
the  ordinary  hard-trotting  beast  affected  by  the  aver 
age  frequenter  of  the  path,  and  wheeling  about,  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  Sylvia  Newman. 

As  she  checked  her  horse  to  respond  to  his  saluta 
tion,  a  wave  of  colour  suffused  her  cheeks,  and  a  frank, 
sweet  smile  irradiated  her  whole  face.  David  had 
studied  her  too  minutely  to  feel  that  these  indications 


22          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

were  other  than  the  result  of  the  sudden  animation  of 
a  countenance  grave  in  its  repose.  But  it  should  have 
been  some  slight  warning  to  him  that  his  pulses 
bounded  at  the  sight  of  her,  and  that  he  could  scarcely 
maintain  an  ordinary  demeanour.  He  was,  however, 
entirely  unconscious  of  danger,  present  or  remote. 
He  felt  secure  in  his  own  ideas  of  duty,  such  as  they 
were,  and  he  was  capable  of  cleaving  to  them  with  a 
tenacity  surprising  to  the  many  who  read  his  char 
acter  amiss. 

"  I  was  told  you  had  a  real  saddler,  Miss  Newman," 
he  began,  at  once,  to  cover  his  secret  exultation. 
"  But  what  a  splendid  fellow ! " 

"  The  American  horse  is  good  enough  for  me,"  she 
said,  leaning  over  the  arching  neck  and  looking  up 
into  David's  eyes,  her  own  sparkling  with  more  hap 
piness  than  she  was  in  the  least  aware  of.  "I  leave 
to  my  sisters  the  delights  of  being  pounded  to  death 
in  the  interests  of  fashion." 

And  as  the  pair  swept  along  at  that  easy,  cradling 
gait  which  is  the  very  poetry  of  motion,  Miss  New 
man's  groom  racing  after  them  at  a  hand  gallop, 
neither  could  have  explained  the  exhilaration  that 
was  theirs  under  those  lowering  skies,  the  chill  of  the 
wet  east  wind  in  their  faces.  Both  riders  seemed  to 
have  so  much  to  say.  And  why? 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  23 

Sylvia  had  put  this  question  to  herself  before,  but 
had  never  yet  obtained  a  satisfactory  reply.  Mr. 
Kingdon  was  assuredly  very  bright,  in  a  way,  but  she 
was  acquainted  with  several  men  of  greater  intellectual 
force.  Neither  could  his  attractiveness  be  set  down 
altogether  to  his  charms  of  person  and  manner, 
although  those  of  course  had  some  influence,  as  is 
inevitable,  given  a  woman  whose  artistic  sensibilities 
are  keen.  The  attraction  sprang  from  some  deeper 
source. 

"I  think  it  must  be  'the  human  touch',"  she 
thought,  is  she  sank  into  a  sleepy-hollow  chair  that 
afternoon  in  her  rooms. 

David's  inborn  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things  inter 
posed  to  prevent  more  meetings  on  the  bridle  path; 
but,  to  his  relief,  Buckley  returned  from  his  outing, 
and  with  the  aid  of  this  friend  he  was  enabled  to  pre 
sent  himself  often  at  the  Newmans',  and  even  received 
invitations  to  their  various  entertainments,  meeting 
Sylvia  at  other  houses  also. 

David  was  beginning  to  believe  that  he  alone  knew 
all  her  attractions,  or  they  flashed  to  the  sur 
face  only  when  she  was  entirely  at  her  ease,  as  he 
knew  with  secret  delight  that  she  invariably  was  with 
him.  He  was  going  away  soon,  and  the  tender, 
human  side  of  his  nature  craved  this  interlude  of  hap- 


24          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

piness;  for  it  was  only  an  interlude,  he  told  himself. 
Spoiled  son  of  fortune  others  might  call  him,  but  he 
knew — as  no  one  else  did — how  much  the  jade  owed 
him,  and  with  what  false  pretences  she  had  put  him 
off.  If  he  could  not  force  her  to  pay  him  in  full,  she 
should  pay  him  a  little ;  it  was  his  right.  As  for  his 
marriage — that  miserable  farce — what  did  it  matter 
whether  Sylvia  were  aware  of  it  or  not?  He  had 
never  made  love  to  her.  Marriage  had  nothing  what 
ever  to  do  with  the  situation. 

Buckley's  thoughts  must  also  have  been  dwelling 
upon  David  and  his  affairs,  for  one  day  he  remarked 
to  his  young  friend,  between  the  whiffs  of  a  cigar : 

"  By  the  way,  David,  do  the  women  all  know  you 
are  a  Benedict  ?  " 

"Women  in  particular,  or  a  particular  woman?" 
asked  David,  airily. 

"Either  or  both." 

"  Mrs.  De  Lancey  knows  it,  I  believe — also,  prob 
ably,  the  Kitteridges." 

"Ah,  but  they  are  not  in  the  Newman  set;  that  is, 
they  only  meet  in  the  most  formal  manner,"  said 
Buckley,  with  meaning.  "People  with  stupendous 
visiting  lists  can't  be  expected  to  keep  track  of  the 
private  affairs  of  common  acquaintances.  See  here, 
old  chap,  I'm  aware  that  you  have  an  almost  unlimited 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          25 

capacity  for  biking  care  of  your  own  personal  con 
cerns,  but  don't  you  think  that  this  is  a  matter  not 
entirely  personal  ?  " 

"My  marriage?     Very  much  so,  I  consider." 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  Don't  try  any  of  your  elusiveness 
on  me.  Out  with  it,  man !  Do  the  Newmans  know, 
or  do  they  not  know,  that  you  have  a  wife  ?  " 

There  was  a  pause.     Then  David  said: 

"Well,  you  see  I  am  not  familiar  with  the  wheels 
within  wheels  of  this  social  machine.  I  supposed 
they — the  Newmans — knew.  Anyway,  I  don't  quite 
understand  whose  business  it  is " 

He  stumbled,  came  to  a  dead  stop,  and  looked  at  his 
friend  with  his  most  infantine,  appealing  expression. 
There  was  another  pause,  a  very  long  one  this  time. 
David  began  to  walk  about  the  room. 

There  is  a  condition  of  mind  which  cannot  be  called 
thinking;  rather  is  it  the  waiting  through  a  long 
night  of  darkness  whilst  circumstances,  great  and 
small,  are  slowly  piling  themselves  one  upon  another. 
Morning  dawns,  and  we  open  our  windows  upon  the 
completed  deed,  of  which  the  building  has  gone  for 
ward  while  we  strove  to  sleep. 

After  what  seemed  to  him  an  eternity  of  silence, 
Buckley  resolved  to  try  again. 

"  David,    I    have    discovered    that    you    can    be 


26          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

serious — deucedly  so,  in  fact.  What  do  you  really 
mean  ?  " 

Then  David  turned  upon  him,  his  eyes  dark  under 
their  dark  brows.  This  was  one  of  the  moments  when 
he  was  neither  young  nor  debonair.  The  words  issued 
from  his  shut  lips  as  if  from  a  steel  trap. 

"What  do  I  mean?  Why,  just  this:  that  it's  the 
hardest  luck  that  ever  struck  a  fellow ! " 

Buckley  wrhistled  long  and  low. 

"  So  it's  bad  as  all  that !  What  are  you  going  to 
do  about  it?" 

"  Do  ?     Take  my  medicine  like  a  little  man." 

"Which,  being  interpreted,  means " 

"  That  I'll  do  the  best  I  can." 

Another  pause. 

"And  she?  Remember  that  she's  an  awfully  and 
particularly  nice  girl." 

"  She's  not  hurt !  "—roughly. 

But  Buckley,  watching  him,  thought  to  himself: 
"  Is  he,  or  is  he  not,  capable  of  a  grand  passion  ?  She 
is — worse  luck  to  it!  And  if  he  is  not,  then  what?" 


CHAPTER     III 

A  FELLOW  can  take  such  an  epistle  as  this 
any  way  he  chooses,"  was  Kingdon's  men 
tal  comment,  as  he  thrust  a  letter  from  his 
wife  back  into  its  envelope. 

He  was  an  attentive  and  fairly  patient  husband; 
this  was  the  pitiful  remains  of  an  early  ardour  for  the 
domesticities. 

A  compendium  of  contradictions,  he  had  inherited 
from  his  mother  his  beauty  and  abounding  vitality, 
from  his  father  a  business  capacity  quite  out  of  the 
common. 

His  birth  had  succeeded  that  of  other  children 
and  their  subsequent  loss.  Long  before  this  son 
came  to  her,  the  young  mother  had  begun  to  learn 
lessons  in  self-repression  at  variance  with  her  real 
nature,  and  their  painful  acquisition  had  its  effect 
upon  her  unborn  child.  David's  was  a  temperament 
peremptorily  demanding  love,  a  home,  a  wife;  a 
nature  capable,  too,  of  hardening  dangerously,  and 
which  needed  some  skill  in  the  handling.  And  he  had 
found — a  Clairette. 

87 


28  THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Now  he  had  a  new  duty  to  perform,  and  he  did  not 
waver.  Buckley  had  spoken. 

"Are  you  going  to  that  Charity  Fair?"  he  asked, 
abruptly  entering  his  friend's  apartments.  "  Because 
if  you  are,  you  may  as  well  mention  casually  to  com 
mon  acquaintances  that  I  can't  put  in  an  appearance. 
I'll  attend  to  the  P.  P.  C.'s.  Got  a  letter  here  from 
my  wife;  she's  coming  home  on  the  St.  Paul,  next 
month,  and  I've  a  lot  of  work  to  do — packing  and 
so  forth.  I  must  go  West  and  fix  up  for  her." 

Buckley  glanced  at  him  inquiringly.  Evidently 
David  had  not  slept  much  the  previous  night;  his 
brown  eyes  were  as  tired  and  wistful  as  those  of  a 
sick  child.  He  hesitated  a  moment,  as  if  to  speak 
further,  then  simply  said: 

"Well,  good-bye  for  the  present.  I'll  see  you 
again." 

At  the  fair  Buckley  was  at  once  assailed  by  inquiries 
for  Mr.  Kingdon,  who  was  to  have  assisted  the  New 
mans  at  their  stall. 

"Didn't  know  he  was  married?" — this  in  answer 
to  an  exclamation  from  Etta  Newman.  "  Why,  that's 
a  good  joke!  He  never  made  any  mystery  of  it. 
But  you  see  it's  rather  an  old  story ;  been  a  Benedict 
for  years!" 

When  at  length    Buckley  thought  he  might  safely 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          29 

move  to  Sylvia's  side,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 
never  beheld  her  so  pale ;  but  she  glanced  up  and  smiled 
as  he  approached. 

"  She'll  get  there — unless  she  dies  on  the  way. 
She's  driving  the  spurs  home  now!"  was  his  inward 
comment. 

Of  course,  she  had  overheard  what  had  been  said; 
therefore  further  allusion  to  it  was,  fortunately, 
unnecessary.  The  two  talked  for  a  few  minutes  about 
the  prospects  of  the  fair,  and  then  Buckley  passed  on 
with  an  inward  groan. 

Yes,  Sylvia  was  driving  the  spurs  home,  and  gallant 
was  the  response  of  her  proud  spirit. 

"  Only  give  me  time ! "  she  whispered  to  her  own 
heart,  as  on  that  memorable  night  she  paced  the 
floor. 

David  could  not  bring  himself  to  leave  a  formal 
card  at  the  Newmans',  and  when  he  was  announced  he 
found  Miss  Newman  the  only  one  of  the  ladies  at  home, 
and  with  her  Mrs.  De  Lancey,  with  whom,  for  unde 
fined  reasons,  Sylvia  had  of  late  become  more  intimate. 

His  visit  was  brief,  and  he  soon  rose  to  take  leave. 
The  subject  of  conversation  had  been  the  Western 
life  to  which  he  was  about  to  return,  and  Sylvia  had 
scarcely  spoken. 

"You  won't  quite  forget  me?"  he  said  wistfully, 


30          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

standing  between  the  two  ladies,  and  looking  from  one 
to  the  other  with  his  most  winning,  troubled  air. 

"Forget  you,  dear  boy?"  cried  Mrs.  De  Lancey, 
impulsively.  "  No !  "  And  taking  the  soft,  brown 
head  in  her  hands,  this  mother  of  sons,  she  kissed  him 
between  the  eyes. 

David  was  equal  to  the  occasion.  Instead  of  the 
merry  retort  that  she  anticipated,  her  hand  was  lifted 
to  his  lips  and  held  there  for  a  moment. 

"  Thank  you !  "  he  said,  simply. 

He  swept  both  women  with  one  swift  glance, 
bowed,  and  was  gone. 

"And  he  has  a  wife!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  De  Lancey. 
"  What  can  she  be  made  of  ?  " 

As  days  lengthened  into  weeks,  pride  reasserted 
itself,  and  Sylvia  knew  hours  of  rebellion.  If  there 
had  been  nothing,  if  David  had  not — what?  Things 
could  not  have  come  to  such  a  pass  with  her,  had  she 
not,  in  some  imperceptible  way,  been  led  on.  Yet 
when  she  sought  to  blame  him,  there  was  in  truth 
nothing  of  which  to  accuse  him.  He  had  neither  made 
love  to,  nor  flirted  with,  her.  He  might  have  told 
her  that  he  was  married?  Yes;  but  might  she  not 
have  discovered  for  herself  that  the  something  she 
knew  to  be  amiss  with  his  life  was  an  uncongenial 
marriage?  Apparently  Mrs.  De  Lancey  and  others 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          :n 

were  aware  of  it;  why  should  he  not  presume  that 
Sylvia  also  understood? 

Friendship — that  was  what  their  association  had 
meant  to  him.  Its  roots  were  in  that  certain  touch 
of  kinship  necessary  to  the  formation  of  enduring 
emotions  of  whatever  kind.  He  had  brought  into 
her  life  something  that  she  had  missed.  Now  she  must 
live  without  it.  That  was  all. 

Everything  should  come  right — it  must.  After 
Etta's  marriage  and  the  departure  of  the  depleted 
family  for  Europe  she  herself  would  remain  in  New 
York.  She  would  be  a  slave  no  longer,  either  to  the 
unworthy  god,  Fashion,  or  to  her  own  pitiful  self. 
She  would  mix  socially  only  with  interesting  people, 
and  form  uplifting  intimacies. 

The  intense  absorption  of  inward  conflict  rendered 
her  less  diffident,  less  susceptible  to  her  mother's  con 
stant  depreciation.  She  talked  brilliantly,  sang  glor 
iously,  because  she  no  longer  cared  for  success  or 
failure.  Every  one  declared  that  that  Miss  Newman 
was  "  coming  to  the  front  after  all,"  and  Mrs.  Newman 
began  once  more  to  dream  dreams  and  see  visions. 

Nevertheless 

"  This  is  obsession !  It  is  madness !  God  keep  me 
sane!"  she  cried  one  night  to  herself;  and  then  dis 
covered  that  she  was  weeping  bitterly.  Starting  up, 


32  THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

she  walked  over  to  the  mirror  and  regarded  herself 
therein,  with  scorn  unspeakable.  "You're  a  nice 
ob j  ect !  And  where's  the  use  of  it  all  ?  Where's  the 
use,  I  say?  Who  cares?"  Only  the  reflection, 
apparently,  whose  brimming  eyes  let  fall  another  pair 
of  useless  tears.  The  scornful  voice  continued :  "  No 
one's  going  to  help  you,  and  no  one's  going  to  care — 
ever!  Just  remember  that.  You've  only  yourself 
to  look  to.  God  is  not  going  to  alter  anything 
because  you  say  you  cannot  bear  this  any  longer. 
You've  got  to  bear  it ! " 

And  the  very  next  day — a  heavenly,  fragrant  day, 
when  street-corners  and  store-windows  break  out  with 
violets  and  narcissi,  and  the  rumble  of  wagons  laden 
with  pot-plants  mingles  with  the  cries  of  vendors  down 
side  streets — she  saw  David  again.  He  was  spring 
ing  from  a  car,  satchel  in  hand,  and  in  another  instant 
disappeared  through  the  open  doors  of  the  Fifth 
Avenue  Hotel. 

Sylvia  hurried  home,  and  locked  herself  into  her  own 
apartments. 


CHAPTER    IV 

WELL?" 
"Well!" 
The    two    men    look  'at    each    other. 
Buckley's  sense  of  humour  was  painfully  keen,  and, 
try  as  he  might,  he  could  not  appear  as  solemn  as 
the   occasion   obviously   demanded   that   he    should; 
for  David  was  extremely  serious,  and  they  were  dis 
cussing  a  serious  matter. 

"  Don't  you  think,  my  young  friend,  that  it's 
rather — ahem — hasty  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't!"— shortly;  "life  itself  is  a  hasty 
affair,  if  it  comes  to  that.  There's  not  enough  of  it 
to  throw  away  on  any  maudlin  sentimentality." 

"Precisely!" 

Kingdon's  moustache  had  once  more  defied  the  dic 
tates  of  fashion,  and  he  was  pulling  at  it  now,  gazing 
straight  ahead  with  eyes  that  saw  nothing.  With  an 
ostentatious  groan  of  resignation  his  friend  reseated 
himself. 

"Look  here,  Buckley!  Four  months  ago  I  lost  a 
wife,  who  was  practically  lost  to  me  a  year  or  so  after 

33 


34  THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

marriage.  Don't  you  believe  that  Syl — Miss  New 
man  can  be  persuaded  to  view  the  rather  unusual  facts 
from  the  actual  standpoint?"  His  clear  eyes  now 
rested  inquiringly  upon  his  companion. 

"Possibly.  Your  persuasive  powers  are  immense; 
I  give  them  their  full  due.  I  won't  suggest  the  em 
ployment  of  tact  on  your  part,  because  you  have 
enough  of  that  quality  and  to  spare — too  much, 
perhaps." 

David  was  still  regarding  him  gravely,  and  now  the 
colour  in  his  cheeks  deepened. 

"  Does  that  mean  that  you  consider  I " 

"  No,  dear  boy,  no !  Simply  that  you  have  con 
siderable  mental  agility  in  dodging  things.  Miss 
Newman,  according  to  my  knowledge  of  her,  is  sin 
gularly  devoid  of  this  gift,  and,  I  should  say,  has 
small  admiration  for  it." 

Another  silence  ensued.  Then  David  stepped  im 
pulsively  forward,  and  grasping  the  hand  of  his 
friend,  exclaimed: 

"Buckley,  if  she  will  accept  me,  I  take  God  to 
witness  that  I  will  be  another  and  a  better  man!" 
He  caught  up  his  hat,  and  hastily  quitted  the 
apartment. 

"  They  all  say  that ! "  murmured  the  elder  man,  as 
he  once  more  arose.  But  the  cynical  speech  was 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          35 

belied  by  the  expression  of  his  countenance ;  and  after 
a  minute  he  smiled  and  exclaimed,  "  Hang  the  fellow ! 

He  has*  a  way  with  him "  then  in  his  turn  sallied 

forth. 

But  even  at  the  club  Buckley's  mind  dwelt  upon  his 
friend's  affairs.  He  could  scarcely  realise  that  only 
four  months  had  elapsed  since  the  sinking  of  the 
small  coasting  steamer  that  plied  between  Naples  and 
Genoa.  He  had  questioned  Kingdon  closely  as  to 
what  his  wife  was  doing  on  that  steamer.  David  had 
learned  that,  wearying  of  the  acquaintances  she  had 
made  in  Naples,  and  being  fond  of  travelling  by 
water,  she  had  insisted  on  taking  passage  by  this 
route,  in  order  to  join  the  Atlantic  liner  at  Genoa, 
and  that  warnings  as  to  the  unseaworthiness  of  the 
coasting  craft  had  passed  unheeded.  Buckley 
gathered  that,  like  most  women  of  narrow  nature  and 
limited  brains,  she  was  intensely  obstinate;  and  that, 
having  made  up  her  mind  to  a  certain  course,  she 
prided  herself  upon  pursuing  it  in  spite  of  heaven 
or  hell.  The  body  was  washed  ashore  at  a  small 
village  on  the  seaboard,  and  one  of  her  Naples 
acquaintances  had  gone  thither  to  identify  it.  But, 
except  for  the  dress,  which  was  familiar  to  her 
companions,  and  for  the  colour  of  the  hair,  it  was 
already  unrecognisable.  It  was  shipped  home  in  a 


36          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

casket  soldered  down,  and  interred  in  the  family  lot 
in  her  native  city.  That  was  the  whole  story. 

But  David  had  not  gone  directly  to  Sylvia.  Sev 
eral  days  elapsed  before  the  two  met,  and  in  that  time 
she  had  collected  her  forces. 

The  meeting  took  place  at  an  inopportune  time  and 
place — the  reception  after  Etta's  wedding.  The 
rooms  were  crammed  to  repletion.  Womanlike,  she 
heard  his  voice  before  he  even  caught  sight  of  her, 
and  at  the  sound  her  heart  leaped  into  her  throat. 
After  the  long  struggle  she  was  so  glad,  so  pitifully 
glad,  to  see  him,  that  she  dared  not  even  glance  his 
way.  When  finally  he  reached  her,  she  smiled  upon 
him  with  the  indifference  of  the  desperate  woman,  who 
will  die  rather  than  betray  herself. 

David,  in  common  with  others  of  his  more  or  less 
deluded  sex,  believed  that  he  understood  women. 
When,  after  hastening  to  this  particular  woman's 
side,  his  heart  on  fire,  his  soul  aflame,  he  was  received 
with  a  quiet,  conventional  smile,  his  face  fell  like  that 
of  a  disappointed  child. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  once,  more  in  the  Avenue, 
turning  mechanically  in  the  direction  of  his  club.  As 
sensitive  as  he  was  ardent,  he  felt,  after  the  foolish 
manner  of  his  sex,  that  he  had  been  cruelly  rebuffed. 
The  sense  of  Sylvia's  remoteness  from  him,  overborne 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          37 

when  they  were  together  by  the  strength  of  a  mutual 
attraction,  was  paramount  now.  Undoubtedly  she 
regarded  him  as  an  empty-headed,  light-minded  per 
son,  unworthy  a  second  thought.  With  that  singular 
mixture  of  impulse  and  self-control  peculiar  to  him, 
he  fumed  and  writhed,  but  waited ;  and  it  Was  not  until 
rumours  reached  him  of  the  approaching  departure 
of  the  Newmans  for  Europe  that  he  betook  himself  to 
his  faithful  friend,  Mrs.  De  Lancey,  and  laid  the  whole 
affair  before  her.  She  was  greatly  astonished,  al 
though  claiming  to  have  suspected  something  of  the 
sort  all  along;  for  this  kind-hearted  lady  was  not 
above  the  common  foibles  of  her  sisters. 

"  Please  tell  me  what  to  do !  "  concluded  David,  with 
his  most  appealing  air. 

"What  to  do?"  she  echoed.  "Go  in  and  win,  my 
dear  boy ! " 

"  But  she's  about  to  sail  for  Europe." 

"Europe?  Fiddle-de-dee!  Her  people  sail  for 
Europe  to-morrow,  but  she's  coming  to  stay  with  me 
until  she  can  make  other  plans." 

David  leaped  from  his  chair.  "  To  stay  with  you, 
dear  Mrs.  De  Lancey ! " 

"  Keep  cool ! "  said  she,  smiling  fondly  upon  him ; 
"  don't  be  such  a  hot-head.  I'll  give  you  your 
chance,  and  you  must  do  the  rest." 


38          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

David  looked  down,  and  traced  the  pattern  of  the 
Persian  rug  with  his  cane.  At  last  he  raised  his  eyes, 
and  said,  still  with  that  half -timid  air  of  appeal,  "  Do 
you  think  it's  too  soon,  Mrs.  De  Lancey?" 

The  woman  of  the  world,  on  whose  warm  heart  con 
ventionality  was  but  a  graft,  hesitated.  "  Well,  a 
little,  perhaps.  Still,  circumstances  alter  cases. 
And  you  wouldn't  be  married  at  once,  I  presume?  " 

"  Married !  "  groaned  David ;  "  she  hasn't  given 
me  an  encouraging  word  as  yet ! " 

"Young  man,  how  often  have  you  seen  her  since 
you  returned?" 

"  Only  once,"  he  admitted — "  at  the  wedding 
reception." 

Mrs.  De  Lancey  laughed  outright,  then  proceeded 
more  seriously :  "  She  comes  to  me,  as  I  told  you, 
to-morrow.  Do  you  think  you  can  wait  until  the  day 
after?" 

David's  eyes  shone,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Very  well,  then.  On  Wednesday  afternoon  I 
have  a  series  of  engagements,  in  none  of  which  Sylvia 
figures.  You  shall  have  her  to  yourself  from  three 
until  six." 

David  departed  from  the  house  in  an  exuberant 
state  of  mind.  He  forgot  his  fears,  forgot  Sylvia's 
coldness.  In  fact,  he  thought  of  nothing  but  that 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH  39 

for  three  whole  hours  he  would  be  at  liberty  to  plead 
his  cause  with  all  the  eloquence  at  his  command. 

Sylvia,  seated  at  the  piano  in  her  hostess'  particular 
sanctum  on  Wednesday  afternoon,  was  singing  with 
so  full  a  heart  that  she  was  oblivious  to  all  else.  She 
did  not  hear  the  opening  and  shutting  of  the  door,  or 
the  quick  step  upon  the  thick  carpet. 

**  Ask  me  no  more:  thy  fate  and  mine  are  sealed: 
I  strove  against  the  stream  and  all  in  vain: 
Let  the  great  river  take  me  to  the  main: 
No  more,  dear  love,  for  at  a  touch  I  yield; 
Ask  me  no  more." 

The  song  came  to  an  end,  but  Sylvia  remained  in 
dreamland,  her  hands  continuing  to  wander  over  the 
keys,  and  the  last  lines  fell  again  softly  from  her  lips. 

David  watched  her  for  a  moment,  noticing  that  she 
was  thinner  and  paler  than  when  he  first  met  her. 
Then  he  glided  forward  and  leaned  upon  the  piano, 
and  when  those  dreamy  near-sighted  eyes  of  hers 
rested  upon  his  face  he  met  them  unflinchingly,  and 
with  a  seriousness  equal  to  their  own.  For  a  few 
seconds  neither  spoke.  It  was  as  the  meeting  of 
spirits  in  a  dream. 

Then  Sylvia  awoke.  Passing  her  hand  over  her 
face,  and  with  a  rush  of  uncontrollable  colour,  she 
exclaimed  impatiently: 


40          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"You  startled  me,  Mr.  Kingdon!"  then  added,  in 
ordinary  tones :  "  If  you  understood  me  better,  you 
would  know  that  I  am  never  quite  myself  unless  I  am 
able  to  get  out  of  myself.  There's  an  Irishism  for 
you!  But  find  yourself  a  chair.  Mrs.  De  Lancey 
has  gone  out." 

But  David  did  not  move. 

"It  is  because  I  want  you  to  know  me  better  that 
I  am  here,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

Sylvia  sat  quietly,  her  hands  clasped  in  her  lap, 
and  David  almost  thought  he  could  detect  the  hurried 
beating  of  her  heart  beneath  her  light  spring  gown. 

"  Will  you  hear  me  ?  "  he  asked,  in  the  same  sub 
dued  tone. 

Her  lips  moved  in  assent. 

"  I  think  we  have  been  together  sufficiently  often 
for  you  to  have  discovered  that  it  is  hard,  very  hard, 
for  me  to  speak  of  myself,  of  my  own  affairs." 

She  glanced  up,  as  if  about  to  reply,  but  did  not 
speak. 

"  It  should  not  have  been  hard,"  he  continued,  "  to 
have  talked  openly  to  you;  but  habit  is  strong,  and 
I  find  it  difficult  to  speak  even  now." 

The  intuitions  of  sympathy  would  no  longer  be 
denied,  and  as  he  faltered  she  took  up  the  threads  of 
speech. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  41 

"  I  think  I  know  what  you  mean,"  she  said,  gently, 
with  her  soft,  yet  direct  gaze.  "You  fear  that  we 
accuse  you  of  want  of  straightforwardness — about 
being  a  married  man.  But  you  made  no  false  pre 
tences.  There  was,  therefore,  no  misrepresentation." 

"  But  it  was  your  right  to  know ! "  he  cried,  spring 
ing  impulsively  forward.  "  From  the  first  hour  I 
saw  you,  I  knew  you  were  the  one  woman  in  the 
world  for  me!  There  was  no  other.  But  I  did  not 
know  it  then — God  knows  I  did  not !  When  I  found 
it  out,  I  went  away.  Don't  you  know  that  I  did?  " 

"  Yes,  I  remember." 

"  And  you  knew  that  last  February  I  lost  my 
wife?" 

"  That  also  we  knew." 

"  But  in  reality,  she  was  lost  to  me  long  ago." 
And  then,  fairly  started  on  a  difficult  subject,  David 
told  her  the  story  of  his  life. 

"  We  were  both  young,"  he  proceeded,  after  a  brief 
introduction  to  his  tale,  "  and  she  thought,  because  I 
entered  so  thoroughly  into  the  whirl  of  our  little 
social  world,  that  I  cared  for  nothing  higher.  Per 
haps  it  was  a  natural  mistake  to  make  ?  "  He  looked 
at  Sylvia  deprecatingly,  inquiringly.  She  restrained 
a  smile,  and  answered  demurely : 

"  It  was." 


42          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"But  I  believed  in  marriage.  I  regarded  it  very 
seriously,  even  when  I  was  a  mere  boy.  She  did  not 
believe  in  it  as  I  did.  I  longed  for  a  home,  and  all 
that  home  means.  I  was  ambitious,  too,  in  directions 
which  held  for  her  no  interest.  So  it  came  about  that 
she  lived  mostly  away  from  me,  in  her  native  city. 
But  there  was  no  quarrel  or  separation ;  it  was  only 
that  she  cared  nothing  for  the  duties  which  were 
mine.  And  I  was  lonely.  I  could  not  live  without 
affection,  and — may  I  tell  you  all?" — this  impul 
sively.  "And,  Sylvia,  I'm  not  the  weak  fool  that  I 
appear.  Let  me  call  you  Sylvia,  won't  you?  " 

She  strove  to  control  the  tiny  smile  that  persisted, 
nevertheless,  in  curling  the  corners  of  her  mouth. 
His  perception  was  far  too  quick  not  to  note  the 
momentary  weakening. 

"  Sylvia — Sylvia — Sylvia ! "  he  cried,  flinging  him 
self  down  on  a  footstool  before  her,  his  eyes  alight. 
But  she  drew  from  him  gently  the  hands  he  was  press 
ing  to  his  lips  and  cheeks.  He  was  on  his  feet  again 
in  an  instant. 

"  Yes ;  I  must  wait.  But  oh,  don't  let  it  be  long ! 

Think  of  the  many  hard  years "  He  walked 

away  from  her,  returned,  and  continued  in  his  former 
tones : 

"  My   home   went   with   my   mother.     Her   dying 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  43 

behest  to  me  was  that  I  take  my  father  away  from  his 
surroundings  to -a  new  country,  where,  among  new 
associations,  his  mental  condition  might  improve;  but 
it  never  did.  Years  before  this  a  mysterious  brain 
disease  had  begun  to  develop.  He  turned  against  my 
mother,  the  most  devoted  wife  that  ever  breathed,  and 
in  consequence  against  me,  because  I  resembled  her. 
Nevertheless,  after  her  death  I  coaxed  him  away  by 
means  of  promises  such  as  one  might  make  to  a  child. 
And  I  was  scarcely  more  than  a  child  myself!  His 
brother,  who  had  large  interests  in  the  West,  came 
with  us  and  installed  us.  We  prospered — or  rather, 
I  did.  We  had  capital,  and  I  business  ability  and  the 
faculty  of  profiting  by  the  advice  of  others.  But  my 
father  believed  until  the  hour  of  his  death  that  he  was 
the  business  head  of  our  concern,  and  that  I  was  a 
worthless  trifler." 

Sylvia,  who  had  long  ago  discovered  the  sterner 
stuff  so  well  concealed  beneath  the  charm  of  his  social 
guise,  looked  still  deeper  now,  and  divined  something 
of  what  that  awful  charge  must  have  been. 

"Clairette  rarely  saw  my  father,  It  was  quite 
possible  to  spare  her  all  that  part  of  my  life ;  although 
he  was  quite  presentable,  only  headstrong  and  unrea 
sonable.  She  had  nothing  to  complain  of  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned." 


44          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

As  David  proceeded  he  grew  graver  and  more  im 
pressive.  Leaning  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  his  clear, 
unwavering  eyes,  now  deep  with  emotion,  met  her 
squarely. 

"  But  let  that  pass.  What  I  want  you  to  under 
stand  is  that  I  am  not  so  light-minded,  so  incapable 
of  feeling,  as  I  must  appear.  I  had  been  learning, 
some  time  before  her  death,  how  to  live  alone;  and 
after  I  met  you  I  learned  that  the  old  careless  exist 
ence  was  no  longer  possible  to  me.  I  tormented  my 
self  every  hour  with  questioning  as  to  what  you  would 
think  of  what  I  was  or  did,  and  then  said:  'What 
does  it  matter?  She  can  never  be  anything  to  me.' 
But  it  did  matter.  That  better  part  of  my  nature 

known  only  to  my  mother  and  to  you "  He 

paused,  a  question  in  his  eyes.  She  nodded  gravely, 
and  he  went  on,  "  And  to  you,  pulled  at  me,  although 
I  did  not  realise  all  that  this  implied.  Whatever  may 
be  said  of  me,  nothing  short  of  the  best  would  content 
me  long.  And  then,  when  I  went  home" — with  a 
bitter  accent  on  the  word — "  I  discovered  that  it  was 
you — you,  Sylvia — who  were  the  home-maker  of  my 
dreams  and  visions!  And  you  were  not  there — and 
never  could  be.  Men  don't  forget  as  easily  as  women 
say  they  do.  I  should  not  have  forgotten  even 
if "  The  pause  was  eloquent. 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH  45 

"  I  do  not  think  they  all  forget  easily,"  she  said 
softly,  "  but  you " 

"Were  not  long  tried?  True.  But  Sylvia- 
Sylvia "  Voice  and  lip  trembled.  He  turned 

from  her  again,  struggled  with  himself,  and  came 
back. 

"Is  it  any  use  to  swear  to  you?  I^have  laid  my 
heart,  my  life,  bare  to  you,  as  I  have  to  no  one  else. 
I  know — God  knows — how  much  there  is  in  your  life 
that  I  cannot  meet  or  fill — yet.  But,  Sylvia,  I  can 
learn.  And  notwithstanding  all  that  may,  that  will, 
be  said  as  to  my  unworthiness,  my  inferiority,  there 
are  some  things,  some  of  the  vital  things  which  go  to 
make  living,  in  which  we  are  in  absolute  accord.  And 
what  is  more,  we  knew  from  the  very  first  that  this 
was  so.  Much  of  the  weariness,  the  unspeakable  mis 
ery,  of  the  married  world  springs  from  the  deluded 
notion  that  only  a  man  and  a  woman  of  opposite 
temperaments  should  mate.  Love  they  may — for  a 
while — but  mate,  never!" 

He  was  at  the  end  of  the  self-command  needed  for 
argument,  even  for  Love's  argument.  Leaning  upon 
the  piano,  he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

Little  as  she  had  said,  instinct,  which  is  stronger 
than  reason,  told  him  that  her  heart  was  touched. 
Nevertheless,  reason  spoke  too,  bidding  him  remember 


46          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

her  capacity  for  weighing  both  sides  of  a  question, 
and  for  counting  the  cost.  And  he  feared  that  for 
her  the  cost  might  be  too  great. 

At  last  Sylvia  spoke,  in  tones  so  low  that  he  could 
barely  catch  the  words. 

"Have  we  not  always  understood  each  other? 
Why  should  you  think  I  might  not  now  understand?  " 

It  was  enough.  He  sprang  forward,  tried  to  look 
into  her  eyes,  and — failed. 


CHAPTER     V 

NEEDLESS  to  say,  there  were  no  surprises 
in  store  for  Mrs.  De  Lancey  when,  voluble 
and  ecstatic,  she  sailed  into  the  room.     She 
could  scarcely  be  persuaded  to  part  with  David,  even 
for  an  hour. 

"  Don't  tell  me  I'm  not  worthy  of  her,  and  all 
that,"  were  his  first  words,  as  he  hurried  into  Buck 
ley's  apartments  and  unfolded  his  tale.  "Don't  I 
know  it,  man?" 

"When  is  it  to  be?" 

"  Not  yet.  She  will  have  to  write  to  her  people 
and  make  arrangements." 

"Poor  girl!  David,  are  you  aware  that  you're 
setting  her  an  awfully  hard  row  to  hoe?" 

David's  radiant  countenance  clouded. 

"Yes,  they  will  object,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 
"  They  will  say  I  am  beneath  her  in  every  way,  and 
—worse  luck! — it's  true.  But  I  love  her,  Buckley. 
That's  all  there  is  to  it." 

"That's  all,"  rejoined  his  friend,  gravely.  Then, 
rising,  he  turned  upon  David  with  a  solemnity  which 
that  young  man  had  never  witnessed  in  him  before. 

47 


48          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  David,"  he  said,  "  if  you  ever  fail  one  iota  in  love 
or  loyalty  to  the  sweetest  woman  that  ever  drew  the 
breath  of  life,  and  I  know  of  it,  I  will  find  you  and 
hold  you  accountable,  if  I  have  to  go  to  the  uttermost 
ends  of  the  earth!  So  help  me  God!" 

He  took  up  his  hat,  and  unceremoniously  abandoned 
his  visitor  to  his  reflections. 

For  a  moment  David  felt  as  nearly  angry  as  was 
possible  in  such  an  hour;  but  this  emotion  was  suc 
ceeded  by  another,  so  different  that  many  minutes 
elapsed  before  he  aroused  himself  and  slowly  made  his 
way  from  the  apartment. 

To  one  of  Sylvia's  temperament  it  was  not  possible 
to  accept  lightly  the  disapproval  of  those  who  had 
claims  upon  her  allegiance.  Poor  Mrs.  Newman,  for 
the  second  time  disappointed  in  the  daughter  regard 
ing  whose  future  she  had  once  more  begun  to  hope, 
spared  not  her  lamentations  that  Sylvia  was  still  her 
father's  daughter,  and,  like  him,  destined  to  make  a 
failure  of  life.  When  the  letter  arrived,  absolutely 
forbidding  the  celebration  of  the  wedding  at  Mrs.  De 
Lancey's  country-house,  and  insisting  on  its  post 
ponement  until  Mrs.  Newman's  return  the  following 
spring,  David  rebelled. 

"  It  is  clear,  Sylvia,"  he  observed,  looking  momen 
tarily  old  and  stern,  "  that  your  mother  intends,  should 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          4.9 

we  be  married  from  your  own  home,  to  manifest  in 
some  way  her  disappointment  in  your  choice.  I 
decline  to  be  thus  humiliated ;  neither  can  I  leave  my 
business  in  the  spring ;  neither,  most  important  of  all, 
will  I  wait  so  long.  I  know  that  I  am  unworthy  of 
you,  my  Sylvia,'* — this  with  one  of  his  lightning-like 
changes — "  but,  God  helping  me,  not  so  entirely  as 
your  mother  believes.  But  you  are  of  age;  you  can 
choose  for  yourself.  Meet  me  at  Kansas  City  late  in 
August,  and  let  us  be  married  there." 

The  very  audacity  of  the  suggestion  won  it  a  hear 
ing,  and  in  David  Kingdon's  case  that  was  all  that  was 
needed.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  one  late  summer 
day,  after  his  departure  for  the  West,  Sylvia,  followed 
by  the  good  wishes  of  Mrs.  De  Lancey  and  a  small 
band  of  her  friends,  found  herself  also  speeding  West 
ward.  And  as  the  Limited  began  its  rush  along  the 
bank  of  the  Hudson  she  was  conscious  of  a  depression 
scarcely  warranted  by  the  latest  letter  from  her 
mother,  resigned  in  tone,  in  her  satchel. 

"  Bless  me,  even  me,  O  my  mother ! " 

But  this  cry  of  her  heart  was  forgotten  as  she 
emerged  with  David  from  the  forlorn  and  dingy 
station  at  Kansas  City  and  entered  the  waiting  cab. 
As  the  vehicle  began  the  ascent  of  the  steep  hill  on 
its  way  to  the  minister's  house,  David  leaned  forward, 


50          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

and,  on  pretence  of  arranging  the  lap-robe,  pressed 
to  hers  his  firm  and  rounded  cheek.  He  did  not  speak, 
but  she  understood  his  mood.  His  silences  were 
always  filled  with  speech  for  her. 

After  a  loitering  trip  which  had  done  duty  at  this 
busy  season  for  a  wedding  journey,  the  two  arrived 
by  night  at  David's  valley  ranch.  Five  miles  of  dark 
ness,  chug-holes,  and  sand,  further  enlivened  by 
assurances  that  the  buggy  was  not  going  to  tip  over, 
had  been  a  very  inadequate  preparation  for  the  sight 
that  met  Sylvia's  eyes  as  she  stepped  off  the  porch 
into  the  glory  of  a  New  Mexico  morning. 

"  It's  rather  a  rough  place,  dearest,  but : '  The 

somewhat  halting  sentence  was  never  finished;  one 
glimpse  of  her  face  rendered  continuation  superfluous. 

In  the  Arid  Belt,  when  the  rainy  season  closes,  earth 
renews  her  vanished  youth.  The  fall  of  her  leaf  is 
at  hand,  but  the  deep  heart  of  her  thrills  with  mem 
ories  that  breathe  and  live  again.  His  courting-days 
are  over,  yet  the  mocking-bird  sways  and  stoops  upon 
his  bough  in  an  ecstasy  of  song,  or  hurls  himself, 
shouting,  a  flash  of  silver,  into  the  rain-washed  blue. 
Basque  and  meadow  wear  their  mantles  freshly  dipped 
in  emerald  green;  and  the  desert,  robed  royally  in 
cloth  of  gold,  spreads  its  interminable  miles  beneath 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  51 

the  azure  arch  of  a  sky,  whose  light  clouds  flee  like 
the  passing  of  violet  wings  over  the  paler  blue  of  the 
far  mountains. 

Sylvia  and  David,  themselves  radiant  as  the  new 
morning,  stood  hand  in  hand  on  the  threshold  of  a 
life  which  was  to  be,  as  it  seemed  to  them,  the  fulfil 
ment  of  their  best  and  highest  ideals.  All  that  had 
gone  before  was  but  a  miserable  pretence. 

Yet  when  David  spoke  again  there  was  a  wistfulness 
in  his  voice  that  touched  a  responsive  chord  in  his 
wife's  being. 

"Do  you  think  it  so  beautiful,  Sylvia?" 

"  How  could  I  help  it  ? — I,  an  Impressionist  of  the 
Impressionists ! " 

She  answered  lightly ;  but  in  her  heart  was  an  ache 
of  sympathy  for  the  shadowy  boy  of  long  ago,  who 
had  stood  beside  another  woman,  younger  and  perhaps 
fairer  than  herself,  upon  this  same  bluff  above  the 
brown  river,  at  the  door  of  the  house  he  had  built  for 
her  home-coming.  Here  he  had  brought  Clairette; 
here,  fretful  and  discontented,  she  had  blasted  his  life, 
and  left  him  to  make  the  best  of  his  mutilated  exist 
ence. 

The  adobe  house  was  substantially  built,  the  walls 
being  two  or  three  feet  thick.  A  windmill  on  the 
bluff  supplied  its  inhabitants  with  water.  The  barns 


52          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

were  also  of  adobe,  instead  of  consisting  of  wattled 
sheds  or  no  sheds  at  all,  as  is  the  case  on  the  majority 
of  New  Mexico  ranches.  Under  the  bluff,  sufficiently 
removed  from  the  whims  and  moods  of  an  unreliable 
river,  and  further  protected  by  dense  groves  of  cotton- 
wood  and  a  strong  dyke,  spread  acres  of  ripening  corn, 
and  of  alfalfa,  bending  its  purple  heads  in  the  light 
south  wind,  and  now  ready  for  the  last  cutting.  A 
bridge  crossed  the  wide  bed  of  the  river  further  down, 
and  on  the  other  side  grew  orchards  of  peach,  pear, 
apple,  plum,  and  quince,  with  here  and  there  a  mud- 
dauber's  nest  of  a  home  amidst  the  wavering  shadows. 
Beyond  stretched  the  golden  desert,  and  still  further 
away  nestled  the  brown  village,  backed  by  an  airy 
battlement  of  mountains. 

"  And  there,  you  see,"  said  David,  pointing  to  the 
mud-daubers'  dwellings,  "  are  the  homes  of  certain  of 
my  cow-men,  who  live  in  them  in  the  summer  time  when 
other  work  is  slack,  to  protect  the  fruit.  And  those 
dark  lines  across  the  alfalfa  and  orchards  are  the  irri 
gating  ditches.  See  the  water  shining  in  the  sun ! 
My  Mexicans  are  at  work,  and  I  must  work,  too. 
Playtime  is  over ! " 

As  the  days  flew  by  Sylvia  found  that  she  was 
understanding  better  the  secret  of  her  husband's  suc 
cess.  It  was  not  due  merely  to  the  fact  that  he  was  a 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          53 

thorough  business  man,  far-seeing  and  prudent  as 
well  as  alert,  but  he  possessed  the  equally  valuable  gift 
of  organisation — a  gift  rarely  accompanying  such 
energy  as  his.  But  she  also  discovered  that  neither 
money  nor  business  capacity  on  the  part  of  the 
employer  can  prevent  Manuel  from  not  caring  to  work 
at  any  given  moment,  or  Matildo  from  imbibing  too 
freely  of  the  red  wine,  or  Jose  from  collapsing  in  the 
shade  of  some  convenient  peach  tree  for  the  purpose 
of  rolling  the  eternal  cigarette.  She  was  to  learn 
later  that,  whatever  were  the  shortcomings  of  the 
native,  those  of  the  average  white  assistant  in  that 
vicinity  were  even  more  pronounced  in  what  are  com 
monly  supposed  to  be  distinctively  Mexican  character 
istics.  In  addition,  she  found  out  that  even  a  David 
could  suffer  from  fatigue  and  discouragement,  as 
other  less  favoured  mortals. 

As  for  Sylvia  herself,  David  had  seen  to  it  that  she 
should  be  spared  the  hardest  portion  of  Western 
existence.  In  fact,  with  an  elderly  coloured  couple, 
originally  from  Virginia,  who  had  been  in  the  employ 
of  the  Kingdons  for  years,  to  attend  to  the  work,  the 
lot  of  the  mistress  of  the  house  was  almost  a  sinecure. 
Still,  she  found  enough  employment  to  develop  the 
home-making  instinct  to  a  remarkable  degree. 

Cold  and  stinging  letters  from  Mrs.  Newman  were 


54          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

not  fully  offset  by  affectionate  ones  from  the  sisters. 
They  had  always  been  firm  believers  in  Sylvia's  right 
to  please  herself,  even  when  they  were  inclined  to 
question  her  selection  of  means.  They  had  also  felt 
David's  charm,  so  merely  wondered,  in  the  intervals 
of  social  gaiety,  how  their  sister  could  endure  existence 
in  the  desert. 

Mrs.  Newman  did  not  really  intend  to  be  stinging ; 
a  little  judicious  comparison,  she  thought,  would  be 
good  for  the  soul  of  a  disappointing  daughter.  But 
she  had  not  reckoned  on  the  power  of  a  satisfied  life 
for  drawing  the  lasting  sting  out  of  the  wounds  she 
inflicted. 

David  watched  his  wife  with  secret  rapture,  feeling 
that  her  love  was  not  a  passing  girlish  enthusiasm  that 
would  gradually  ebb  away  as  the  flood  of  a  swollen 
river,  leaving  ugly  snags  and  gullies  exposed  to  a 
rueful  view,  but  the  serious  impulse  of  a  developed 
woman. 

"  Between  us,  Sylvia,  we  ought  to  be  able  to  con 
quer  the  world!"  he  exclaimed,  half  jestingly,  one 
day,  entering  the  pretty  sitting-room  to  get  a  light 
for  his  pipe,  and  lingering  for  a  moment  before 
returning  to  his  work. 

Full  to  the  lips  with  life,  and  all  that  life  means, 
they  looked  at  each  other  and  smiled. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  55 

"  Oh,  there's  so  much  I  want  to  do ! "  she  cried. 
"  David,  why  is  life  so  short?  " 

Theirs  was  a  mating  never  likely  to  prove  distaste 
ful  from  too  strong  a  similarity  of  tastes  and  opinions. 
The  dissimilarity  in  rearing  and  environment  had 
created  mental  and  spiritual  differences  sufficient  to 
make  each  feel  the  interest  of  something  undiscovered 
in  the  other. 

David  was  fully  cognisant  of  the  influence  that  his 
wife's  more  liberal  and  exalted  views  of  life  were 
having  upon  his  own. "  Having  been  reared  a  provin 
cial  of  the  provincials,  it  was  only  during  his  latest 
visits  to  New  York  and  recent  introduction  to  a  higher 
form  of  society  than  he  had  ever  before  enjoyed,  that 
he  had  realised  his  limitations,  and  with  prompt  and 
characteristic  adaptability  responded  to  its  expanding 
and  refining  influence. 

He  had  previously  been  in  the  habit  of  attending 
rural  festivities,  distant  though  they  were;  but  he 
found  himself  pleading  with  his  wife,  one  evening, 
that  they  should  eschew  these  gatherings  and  remain 
at  home. 

"  At  Kingdon's  Crossing,  where  Clairette  spent  most 
of  her  time  when  in  New  Mexico,  you  can  all  have 
the  society  you  desire — of  a  kind.  But  let  us  enjoy 
our  divinely  appointed  lot  whilst  we  may ! "  he 


56          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

exclaimed,  as  he  closed  the  book  and  piano  for  the 
night.  "  We  are  free  in  our  home  here  from  a 
society  which  is  entertained  principally  with  card- 
playing,  dancing,  and,  last  but  not  least,  gossip, 
eternal  and  infernal ! " 

"  I'm  only  afraid  we  shall  become  horribly  selfish," 
sighed  the  conscientious  Sylvia. 

"  Oh,  we  shan't  have  time  to  be  selfish.  You  don't 
know  how  busy  I'm  going  to  be  soon." 

"  Busier  than  you  are  now  ?  " 

"  Much  busier !  Soon  I  must  go  to  the  mountains. 
Dick  is  a  jewel,  but  he'd  die  in  his  tracks  if  I  left  him 
all  the  responsibility  of  the  rounding-up  and  shipping 
season.  It's  a  pretty  rough  place,  but  you  won't  let 
me  go  alone,  will  you,  sweetest  ?  " — this  in  the  alluring 
tones  she  had  learned  to  know  so  well. 

She  laughed.  "  David  we  are  growing  selfish ! 
What  are  we  to  do  about  it?  " 

His  face  clouded.  Although  his  wife  was  gradu 
ally  winning  him  from  the  partly  acquired,  partly 
inherited  secretiveness  of  his  nature,  there  yet  remained 
anxieties  in  an  existence,  free  apparently,  from  grave 
cares,  with  which  he  had  not  acquainted  her — anxieties 
suspected  by  her  watchful  love,  but  for  the  full  revela 
tion  of  which  that  love  was  willing  to  wait. 

"  Sylvia,"  he  said,  dropping  her  hand  and  pacing 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  57 

the  floor,  "  our  life  is  not  so  care-free  as  it  looks  on 
the  surface.  There  is  trouble  ahead.  True,  we  may 
steer  clear  of  it,  but  the  chances  are  against  us.  I  did 
not  wish  to  cloud  our  happiness — the  first  real  hap 
piness,  I  think,  that  either  of  us  has  ever  known — by 

alluding  to  possible  shadows;  but "  He  paused 

abruptly,  bit  his  lip,  and  looked  at  her ;  his  eyes  dark 
with  the  expression  she  disliked  so  much,  yet  always 
forced  herself  to  meet  with  serenity,  knowing  of  what 
years  of  mistrust,  silent  brooding,  and  disappointment 
it  was  the  result. 

"  Don't  let  us  speak  of  such  things,  then,"  she  said, 
quietly.  "  There  is  time  enough,  and  I  shall  not  fail 
you." 

The  contraction  of  his  heavy  brows  relaxed,  and 
his  eyes  cleared.  "  It  shall  be  as  you  say,"  he  replied, 
passing  his  fingers  through  his  hair.  "  I  dare  say 
you  wonder  why  I  work  so  hard  when  we  already  have 
enough,  but  I  will  tell  you  all  in  time.  I  know  you 
understand — that  you  make  allowance  for  this  hateful 
secretiveness,  which,  even  in  my  association  with  you, 
I  cannot  shake  off  at  once.  It  was  the  long,  long 
years  alone  which  did  it — no  one  to  whom  to  go  with 
my  difficulties  from  the  time  I  was  a  mere  boy !  Then 
there  were  the  complications  connected  with  my  poor 
father,  my  own  loveless  existence — oh,  everything ! 


58          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

But  I  am  improving,  sweetest," — this  with  one  of 
his  brilliant  smiles — "I'm  learning  every  hour!" 

And,  inconsistent  as  it  may  appear,  Sylvia  found 
herself  making  some  allowance  for  Clairette  also.  She 
perceived  just  where  the  husband  of  her  own  love 
might  have  tried  that  other  wife,  formed  as  Clairette 
was  by  nature,  or  circumstance,  on  cold  and  trivial 
lines.  Undisciplined,  and  without  mental  resource, 
what  better  could  have  been  expected  of  her? 

Poor  Clairette! 


CHAPTER    VI 

ONE  afternoon  a  loud,  rasping  voice  made 
itself  heard  in  the  hall,  accompanied  by  a 
beating  on  the  open  door.  David  was 
busy  with  his  ranch  books,  and  Sylvia  was  giving 
the  last  touches  to  a  sketch.  As  she  glanced  up  inquir 
ingly,  David  pushed  away  his  work  with  impatience 
and  went  out.  He  ushered  in  an  undersized  man, 
introducing  him  as  Mr.  Atherton,  a  minister  in  charge 
of  a  small  congregation  some  miles  away  across  the 
range.  The  cause  of  this  visit  never  transpired, 
probably  because  it  was  simply  unadulterated  curi 
osity.  He  announced  himself  as  a  Christian  worker. 

Both  husband  wife  heaved  sighs  of  relief  when  he 
took  his  departure. 

"He's  probably  a  good  man,  David,"  Sylvia 
hastened  to  say,  "  and,  as  such,  of  course  he's  worthy 
of  respect." 

David  moved  his  shoulders  impatiently.     "  Yes." 

The  reply,  colourless,  noncommittal,  made  little 
impression  on  Sylvia  at  the  time;  but  there  came  a 
day  when  she  remembered  it  well. 


60          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

As  the  two  stood  on  the  porch,  waiting  for  their 
horses,  for  they  were  to  make  a  final  round  of  the 
ranch  before  going  to  the  mountains  on  the  morrow, 
David  observed,  rather  inadvertently : 

"  Hypocrites  are  not  quite  so  common  with  us  as 
they  are  in  the  East,  Sylvia.  Our  heathen  respect 
goodness  when  it's  solid,  but  it's  obliged  to  have  some 
thing  to  stand  upon.  They're  not  easily  blinded.  A 
minister  here  does  himself  no  good  by  assuming  moral 
superiority.  He  must  earn  respect.  Tithing  mint, 
anise,  and  cummin  isn't  going  to  help  him  with  our 
people  if  he  doesn't  conform  to  what  we  consider  the 
weightier  matters  of  the  law ;  I  mean  not  simply  clean 
living,  but  kind,  helpful  living  is  requisite.  Oh, 
naturally,  like  you  in  the  East,  we  have  our  crowd 
that  looks  out  only  for  what  a  man  says — for  his 
preaching  and  praying  and  so  on — not  what  he  does. 
But  on  the  whole,  hypocrites  are  in  the  minority — in 
the  mountains,  at  all  events." 

The  horses  arrived  at  the  moment,  and  the  two 
mounted  and  started  on  their  tour  of  inspection.  The 
work  for  the  season  was  about  done.  The  winter 
apples  were  gathered  and  stored,  the  fodder  piled  on 
long  sheds  formed  of  brush  laid  on  giant  bigas,  or 
posts.  At  one  and  all  of  these  operations  Sylvia  had 
been  present,  observing  with  an  intentness  which 


THE    HUMAN   TOUCH  61 

caused  David  laughingly  to  remark  that  another  year 
he  would  appoint  her  "  boss  "  of  River  Ranch. 

Sylvia  lifted  the  Boy  into  a  lope  which  accorded 
well  with  that  of  David's  Western-bred  horse.  As 
they  swept  along  side  by  side — she  with  her  bright 
hair  rippling  backward,  her  deep  eyes  shining,  he  with 
his  well-poised  head  and  splendid  colouring  enhanced 
by  the  rich  crimson  of  his  outing-shirt — they  looked 
the  very  embodiment  of  life,  hope,  and  beauty. 

"'Whom  the  gods  love  die  young' — what  made 
me  think  of  that,  David?"  She  reined  in  her  horse, 
and  looked  at  him  as  if  he  must  be  able  to  answer 
the  question. 

"  Who  can  follow  your  winged  thoughts  ?  "  was  the 
light  response.  "  But  see,  here  comes  one  of  the 
heathen,  according  to  Mr.  Atherton." 

A  man  was  riding  toward  them.  The  mare  upon 
which  he  was  mounted  was  so  fine  a  specimen  that,  in 
spite  of  herself,  Sylvia's  glance  was  attracted  to  the 
lower  animal  first. 

"Look  at  him  well,  Sylvia,"  added  David,  in  an 
undertone — meaning,  of  course,  the  rider — "he's  our 
sheriff." 

"  He  looks  very  clean,"  she  murmured. 

David  laughed  softly.  "And  that's  all  you  have 
to  say  about  one  of  our  Western  heroes  ?  " 


62  THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"Yet  you  must  allow  that  it's  a  circumstance — 
here,"  she  persisted. 

The  three  riders  came  together  before  David  could 
retort.  The  sheriff's  smile  in  response  to  Kingdon's 
greeting,  and  the  introduction  to  Sylvia,  came  heartily 
and  spontaneously. 

John  Cristol  was  a  man  past  middle  age,  lean  and 
sinewy,  yet  with  a  singularly  clear  skin,  tanned  pink 
rather  than  brown  by  the  everlasting  sunshine  of  the 
Arid  Belt;  it  was  the  latter  peculiarity  which  had 
evoked  from  Sylvia  that  awe-stricken  comment  on  his 
cleanliness.  He  had  gray,  abstracted  eyes,  remark 
able  in  one  of  his  alert  calling. 

"Out  gunning,  Cristol?"  remarked  David,  as  the 
horses  started  to  move  on. 

"  Yes,  I  guess  so,"  was  the  somewhat  dreamy 
reply. 

The  sheriff  lifted  his  soft  felt  hat  and  loped  upon 
his  way. 

"Armed  to  the  teeth,  isn't  he?  " 

"  Yes.     And  what  a  far-away  eye  he  has ! " 

"And  doesn't  the  Bad  Man  wish  he  had!"  ejac 
ulated  David.  "  Cristol's  what  the  mountain  people 
call  'the  suddenest  man  with  a  gun'  in  this  whole 
section,  Sylvia.  There's  not  a  man  who  can  get  ahead 
of  him." 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH  63 

As  they  rode  into  the  corral  upon  their  return  Aunt 
Julie  came  running  out  of  the  house.  "  Dat  big 
cattle  boss  in  de  office,  Marse!"  she  said.  "What's 
he  name?  Berry?" 

Sylvia,  whom  David  was  in  the  act  of  lifting  from 
her  horse,  was  immediately  aware  that  one  of  his 
sudden  storms  of  rage  had  seized  him.  Of  these 
usually  well-controlled  attacks  she  rarely  took  notice ; 
but  in  the  fleeting  glimpse  she  caught  of  his  face  she 
felt  she  had  never  seen  its  brightness  darken  so  com 
pletely.  Slowly  she  followed  him  to  the  house.  On 
the  porch  she  paused  and  glanced  across  the  valley. 

There  is  something  in  the  swift  on-stealing  of  these 
far-western  twilights  which  has  in  it  an  element  of 
relentlessness.  As  she  gazed,  there  fell  on  Sylvia's 
spirit  a  shadow  akin  to  that  now  gliding  over  the  wide 
landscape  and  dimming  its  radiance. 

Happiness  is  something  to  which  some  of  us  have 
to  become  accustomed,  and,  as  a  new  garment,  it 
brings  its  moments  of  discomfort.  To  Sylvia  it  was 
still  new,  and  as  she  stood  alone  in  the  sombre  hush 
of  the  evening  a  disquietude  for  which  discomfort  is 
too  poor  a  word  took  possession  of  her.  The  crush 
ing  sense  of  finality,  of  nameless  apprehension,  is  the 
common  heritage  of  impressionable  natures,  obliter 
ating  at  times  the  zest  of  living,  and  even  love  itself. 


64          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Fortunate  are  they  who  have,  in  such  inevitable 
moments,  the  warm  and  near  comradeship  of  some 
human  heart. 

Instinctively  Sylvia  moved  to  seek  David,  then 
remembered  that  he  was  not  alone.  With  the  move 
ment  she  became  conscious  of  a  glow  upon  her  face, 
and,  looking  up,  beheld  the  nightly  miracle,  the 
resurrection  of  departed  day.  From  the  dark  and 
sleeping  valley  had  sprung  a  rose-hued  vision  from 
the  land  of  dreams — battlements  of  rose  and  pearl, 
airy  castles  never  raised  by  human  hands,  enchanted, 
evanescent. 

"The  splendour  falls  on  castle  walls 
And  snowy  summits  old  in  story: 

The  long  light  shakes  across  the  lakes, 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory." 

As  she  passed  through  the  hall  David  opened  the 
door  of  his  office. 

"Have  the  kindness  to  step  here  a  moment,"  he 
said,  in  his  curt  business-voice. 

She  entered,  and  he  closed  the  door  behind  her. 

"Mr.  Berry,  this  is  my  wife.  Mrs.  Kingdon — 
Mr.  Berry." 

Sylvia  divined  immediately  that  it  was  as  a  witness 
she  was  needed;  so,  seating  herself  at  the  desk,  she 
began,  as  was  her  nightly  wont,  to  set  to  rights  the 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH  65 

disorder  left  by  David's  proceedings  with  the  morn 
ing's  mail. 

The  two  men  were  standing,  the  light  from  a 
bracket-lamp  falling  full  upon  their  faces.  Unob 
served  herself,  Sylvia  was  able  to  make  observations, 
and  speedily  became  aware  that  David's  extreme  cool 
ness  was  simply  the  result  of  anger  at  white  heat. 
His  flexible  red  lips  were  drawn  to  a  thin  line ;  his  eyes, 
usually  wide  and  pellucid,  seemed  to  have  permanently 
receded  under  their  dark  brows ;  his  nostrils  quivered. 
His  wife  was  acquainted  with  these  symptoms,  but  had 
never  before  seen  them  so  pronounced.  His  compan 
ion,  a  large,  loose-jointed  man  considerably  older  than 
he,  presented  a  rather  amusing  contrast  to  the  con 
centrated,  highly  finished  specimen  of  manhood  with 
which  he  was  confronted.  The  elder's  eyes,  moreover, 
were  not  direct,  but  furtive  in  expression,  and  his  face 
was  unbecomingly  flushed. 

The  conversation,  momentarily  interrupted  by 
Sylvia's  entrance,  was  resumed. 

"As  I  was  a-tellin'  you,  Mr.  Kingdon,  that  stock 
o'  yours  has  been  a-runnin'  on  my  range  a  good  many 
months." 

"  Two  years,  sir,  as  I  understand  it.  Seven  are  fine 
cows,  branded  now  with  your  brand  on  top  of  mine." 

"  Quite  a  mistake,  Mr.  Kingdon,  I  assure  you,  sir ! 


66          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

The  branding  was  entirely  an  oversight.  Send  one  o' 
your  men  to  my  place,  and  you  can  take  the  stock 
at  any  time  as  suits  you." 

"  Yes ;  and  have  my  man  shot  for  running  off  cattle 
branded  with  your  brand?  No,  sir,  thank  you!" 

For  a  moment  Sylvia  believed  that  David's  rage 
was  about  to  break  loose  on  this  man;  and,  unac 
quainted  as  yet  with  range  etiquette  and  cattle-feuds, 
she  failed  to  see  cause  for  such  extremity  of  wrath  on 
the  part  of  her  husband.  She  had  never  beheld  him 
give  free  rein  to  his  passionate  temper,  and  in  spite  of 
her  confidence  in  him  she  shrank  from  witnessing  an 
outbreak  which  instinct  warned  her  would  be  tremen 
dous.  But  David  now  held  his  temper  well  under 
control. 

"  Have  the  goodness,  Mr.  Berry,  to  send  one  of 
your  men  with  the  calves  to  my  ranch-house,  early  next 
week.  I  shall  be  there  myself  to-morrow.  Give 
orders  to  have  the  stock  rebranded  with  my  brand — 
or  there'll  be  trouble." 

His  voice  was  perfectly  composed,  but  Sylvia,  the 
city -bred,  to  whom  "trouble"  was  something  awful 
and  indefinite,  connected  with  fearful  and  unfamiliar 
weapons,  quailed  before  the  threat  implied  in  its  tones. 
Involuntarily  she  moved  so  as  to  throw  her  handker 
chief  over  the  six-shooter  lying  on  the  desk. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          67 

Had  she  seen  Berry's  face,  she  might  have  felt  her 
fears  to  be  even  better  justified  than  was  already  the 
case.  Fortunately  for  her,  she  had  not.  David  had, 
however,  with  the  result  that  he  repeated  in  even 
tones,  continuing  to  look  his  visitor  in  the  eye. 

"There  will  surely  be  trouble,  sir." 

A  short  silence  ensued.  Then  Berry  began  in  a 
fawning,  disagreeable  voice : 

"  Not  between  sech  good  neighbours  as  we've  been, 
Mr.  Kingdon,  I  hope.  You  don't  disremember,  as  I 
take  it,  what  I  done  fer  you  in  that  trouble  with  your 
Paw?  Your  good  lady  will  excuse  me,  I'm  sure," 
turning  suddenly  on  Sylvia.  "  She  knows,  by  this, 
as  young  men  will  be  young  men — sow  their  wild  oats 
and  all  that.  They  do  say  as  Molly  Fisher's  turned 
over  a  new  leaf  too — married  an'  settled !  But  maybe 
Mrs.  Kingdon  don't  know  nothin'  about  the  little 
times  we  has  up  here,  an'  I  let  the  cat  outer  the  bag? 
\Vill,  when  folks  is  new  married  there's  got  to  be 
fusses  till  so  be  as  they  git  better  acquainted ;  but  " 
gathering  fresh  courage  from  David's  silence  and 
from  the  ever  ready  colour  dyeing  Sylvia's  fair  face, 
and  speaking,  therefore,  more  jauntily — "but  ladies 
has  got  to  learn  that  fine  feathers  don't  allus  make 
fine  birds,  whatever  the  chicken  books  says,  and  that 
inen'll  have  their  fling.  My,  but  your  other  lady  was 


68          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

a  fine  figure  of  a  woman ! " — this  with  a  disparaging 
glance,  which  fortunately  passed  unheeded  by  David, 
at  Sylvia's  slender  grace — "no  wonder  it  didn't  suit 
her  here." 

Sylvia's  whole  being  was  now  absorbed  in  terror  lest 
David  should  hurl  himself  upon  this  man  and  throttle 
him.  But  under  the  magnitude  of  the  offence,  and 
possessed  also  by  an  intense  sympathy  for  his  wife, 
David  preserved  his  calmness.  He  bent  his  eyes,  now 
cleared  of  their  threatening  shadows,  gravely  upon 
her,  and  she  met  them  with  a  look  whose  serenity 
deserved  to  rank  this  among  the  most  heroic  efforts  of 
her  life. 

Completely  baffled  by  the  attitude  of  the  pair,  to 
whose  behaviour  he  had  no  clue,  Berry  shuffled  his 
feet  and  put  on  his  hat. 

"Well,  I'll  bid  you  good  evenin',"  he  said,  and 
opened  the  door. 

But  David  had  not  done  with  him.  With  a  flash 
like  that  of  a  sword  leaping  from  its  scabbard,  he 
whirled  upon  his  tormentor,  and  said  in  his  former 
steely  tones: 

"  Good  evening,  sir.  But  if  you  forget  what  I 
have  said  to  you  this  day,  there  will  as  surely  be 
trouble  between  us  as  there  is  a  God  in  heaven !  " 

The  door  closed.     Berry  was  gone. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          69 

David  turned  again  to  his  wife.  Taking  her  face 
gently  in  his  hand,  he  lifted  it  to  his  own  and  gazed 
once  more  deep  into  her  eyes.  Then  with  the  same 
ineffable  gentleness  he  kissed  her  on  the  lips.  He  was 
trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

"  God  do  so  unto  me  and  more  also ! "  he  murmured, 
released  her,  and  was  gone. 

And  Sylvia  sank  into  a  chair  and  burst  into  tears. 

In  a  very  few  minutes  she  pulled  herself  together 
and  faced  the  situation.  What  was  there  to  cry 
about?  David  was  now  altogether  her  own — soul, 
heart,  and  body.  Moreover,  although  quite  willing 
to  acknowledge  that  his  past  had  contained  its  wand 
ering  fancies,  for  which  there  had  been  excuses  of 
circumstance  as  well  as  of  temperament,  she  under 
stood  him  too  perfectly  to  harbour  for  one  instant  the 
suspicion  that  he  could  be  guilty  of  a  base  action.  At 
the  very  worst,  his  past  belonged  to  another  woman ; 
to  this  other  woman,  not  to  Sylvia,  was  he  answerable 
for  its  actions. 

Then  there  was  the  allusion  to  Kingdon  pere. 
David  had  gradually  brought  himself  to  speak  freely 
to  his  wife  of  his  relations  with  one  who  had  burdened 
his  life  almost  beyond  the  power  of  his  endurance. 
Those  who  have  never  had  to  conflict  daily  with  minds 
from  which  the  ability  to  reason  has  fled,  leaving  the 


70          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

other  faculties  comparatively  unimpaired,  can  form  no 
conception  of  what  such  conflict  means.  Sylvia  came 
to  understand  only  by  degrees,  as  she  stumbled  some 
what  painfully  over  the  consequences  of  the  old  man's 
ill-regulated  tongue.  But  she  already  knew  that  the 
father  had,  to  the  last,  persisted  in  the  belief  that  his 
son,  to  whom  was  due  the  success  of  their  business, 
was  a  flighty,  irresponsible  boy,  in  hourly  need  of  his 
steadying  hand.  Out  of  what  delusions,  therefore, 
might  not  the  Molly  Fisher  incident  have  been  created. 
That  dark  hint  of  "  trouble,"  however,  produced  a 
disquiet  for  which  even  her  admirable  tolerance  and 
common  sense  could  find  no  palliative.  And  when, 
after  half  an  hour,  she  heard  her  husband's  step  in  the 
room  adjoining,  she  realised  at  once  that  the  moment 
for  "letting  go"  in  the  feminine  manner  had  not 
arrived.  She  refrained  from  going  forward  to  meet 
him,  aware  that  such  a  course  only  increases  irrita 
tion.  She  heard  him  kick  off  his  heavy  boots,  and 
splashed  violently  in  the  bowl.  Presently  he  pushed 
aside  the  portiere  and  entered.  Thrusting  his  hands 
into  his  pockets,  he  walked  to  the  window  and  stood 
staring  out  into  the  deepening  night.  He  took  no 
more  notice  of  the  wife  of  his  adoration  than  if  she 
were  in  no  way  concerned  with  his  existence.  To  say 
that  Sylvia  was  disappointed  is  but  to  acknowledge 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          71 

that  she  was  human — also  that  she  was  a  woman. 
Her  effort  represented  just  so  much  wasted  energy 
then  ?  Nothing  more ! 

She  sat  quite  still,  and  considered.  She  felt  assured 
that  had  she  been  Clairette  he  would  not  have  trusted 
her  to  the  extent  of  calling  her  in  as  a  witness  to  what 
was  bound  to  prove  a  disagreeable  scene;  in  the  sec 
ond  place,  he  would  thereafter  have  avoided  her  and 
the  domestic  dangers  incident  to  an  abandoned 
feminine  tongue.  Instead,  he  had,  even  if  half  uncon 
sciously,  sought  his  wife  while  in  one  of  his  blackest 
moods. 

Thus  slightly  encouraged  and  consoled,  Sylvia 
arose  and  began  to  move  quietly  about  the  room,  mak 
ing  sundry  minor  preparations  for  the  evening  meal 
always  served  in  "  the  snuggery." 

It  was  as  if  David  gradually  became  aware  of  some 
soothing  influence  stealing  into  the  darkness  of  his 
being;  and  soon,  as  she  passed  near  him,  he  put  out 
his  hand.  It  was  like  an  appeal  from  the  dumb. 
Sylvia  placed  hers  within  it,  and,  gently  drawing  him 
toward  the  lounge,  sat  down.  He  flung  himself 
beside  her,  and  leaned  his  head  upon  her  shoulder. 

Sylvia  possessed  in  its  fulness  the  gift  of  silence, 
a  gift  priceless  or  fatal  according  as  it  is  used.  Now 
it  fell  as  drops  of  balm  upon  a  smarting  wound.  Only 


72          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

her  hands  spoke  for  her — those  tender  hands  which 
softly  smoothed  the  thick  hair  from  his  brow. 

Slowly  his  excitement  subsided.  His  eyes  wan 
dered  about  the  pretty,  firelit  room,  with  its  drawn 
curtains  and  tea-table,  sparkling  with  silver,  and  gay 
with  bright  autumn  leaves.  This  was  home — the 
home  for  which  he  had  always  longed.  What  did 
anything  matter,  now  that  he  had  Sylvia's  breast 
upon  which  to  lean,  her  heart  where  his  love  might 
rest  ? 

"Dearest!     Forgive  me!" 

She  leaned  nearer,  and  touched  his  forehead  with 
her  lips.  His  eyes  closed.  But,  while  her  body  was 
so  still,  her  mind  was  hurrying  with  an  anxiety  essen 
tially  feminine  over  possible  and  impossible  dangers. 
Her  heart  beat  so  fast  that  she  feared  he  might  notice 
its  emotion;  but  the  masculine  absorption  in  per 
sonal  pain  was  now  overriding  David's  characteristic 
acuteness. 

When  he  awoke  it  was  to  find  his  head  upon  a  heap 
of  cushions,  and  Sylvia  putting  the  finishing  touches 
to  the  tea-table.  She  made  no  allusion  either  to 
Berry  or  his  visit,  feeling  confident  that  he  would 
tell  her  all  when  the  right  moment  came.  It  was  not 
by  pressing  him  with  inopportune  questions  that  she 
had  won  him  to  a  greater  expansiveness. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          73 

In  the  night,  half-waking,  he  sighed  and  stretched 
his  hand  toward  her.  Once  more  she  placed  her  own 
within  it.  He  drew  it  close,  and  slept  again.  But 
she  lay  waking  long,  and  it  must  have  been  two  hours 
later,  in  the  chill  of  the  dark  that  precedes  the  dawn, 
that  he  spoke — softly,  as  though  unwilling  to  arouse 
her. 

"Sylvia?" 

She  stirred,  and  answered. 

"May  I  tell  you  something? — about  that  girl? 
Dearest,  will  you  hear  me?" 

She  winced — she  would  have  been  some  other  Sylvia 
had  she  not  done  so — but  replied  steadily : 

"  Tell  me,  dear,  if  it  will  help  you  to  do  so.  Not 
otherwise." 

Thereupon  followed  a  not  uncommon  story,  related 
with  the  vigour  and  brevity  which  distinguished 
David's  rare  outpourings.  The  principal  actors  in 
it  were  well  known  to  him ;  in  fact,  he  did  not  attempt 
to  deny  that  all  the  men,  himself  included,  had  flirted 
with  the  heroine  of  the  tale,  a  wild  mountain  lass. 
But  the  actual  offender  had  fled,  before  the  vengeance 
liable  to  be  meted  out  by  the  mountain  people  in  such 
cases  had  overtaken  him.  Every  man  and  woman  of 
them,  save  certain  individuals  who  bore  David  a 
grudge,  gave  credence  to  the  true  story,  in  which 


74          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

David  did  not  figure.  But  Mr.  Kingdon,  with  that 
hideous  faculty  for  distorting  facts  characteristic 
of  a  mental  condition  such  as  his,  promptly  assumed 
David's  culpability,  and  with  the  aid  of  Berry,  the 
father  of  the  real  culprit,  furnished  many  a  delectable 
morsel  to  his  son's  traducers.  Influenced  by  the  same 
queer  trick  of  nature,  Mr.  Kingdon  had  before  this 
ardently  "  professed  religion  " ;  and  at  the  camp 
meetings,  attended  by  the  religious  enthusiasts  in 
variably  supplied  in  large  numbers  by  the  mountain 
people,  he  made  himself  and  his  son  conspicuous  by 
his  prayers.  To  David's  friends  such  episodes 
afforded  unholy  amusement.  To  David  they  were 
gall  and  wormwood.  Such  was  the  story,  up  to  date. 

For  a  while  after  David  had  finished,  Sylvia 
answered  nothing.  Then  she  said,  half  timidly: 

"  Did  she  know  about  it?  " 

"  Clairette?  No.  Even  had  it  been  true,  I  should 
not  have  told  her.  She  would  not  have  understood; 
she  was  not  like  you.  Then,  she  never  went  near 
my  poor  father,  although  he  stood  ready  to  espouse 
her  cause  and  make  trouble  between  us.  She  was 
afraid  of  him — I  don't  know  why.  But,  Sylvia- 
dearest — I  may  have  been  light-minded — I  admit  it 
— but  I  never  could  have  done  so  base  a  thing!  It 
isn't,  it  never  was,  in  me ! " 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          75 

She  laughed  softly  in  the  darkness. 

"Don't  you  think  I  know  that,  David?  What 
does  it  matter  to  us  what  they  say?  And,  David, 
didn't  you  promise  me  that  now  you  are  no  longer 
alone  you  would  not  go  on  taking  things  so  hard,  and 
brooding  over  them?  What  is  a  small  matter  like 
this  to  us  ?  " 

There  was  another  pause,  and  when  he  spoke  again 
it  was  as  one  who  has  had  a  load  lifted  off  his 
shoulders. 

"  One  more  word,  dearest,  before  you  sleep ;  as 
sleep  you  must,  with  that  mountain  trip  ahead.  I 
do  not  say  that  there  will  be  trouble  with  that  fellow 
Berry,  but  there  may  be.  These  cattle-feuds  are 
slow  to  die,  and  he  is  an  old  hand  at  mischief-making. 
Nothing  to  worry  about  on  my  account,  remember. 
But  you,  poor  little  city  mouse !  What  will  become 
of  you?  I've  more  than  half  a  mind  to  be  unselfish 
enough  to  leave  you  behind  in  the  valley,  with  Aunt 
Julie!" 

"  No,  you  haven't ! "  retorted  Sylvia,  comfortably ; 
adding,  with  an  assurance  that  momentarily  deceived 
even  herself :  "  You'll  soon  see  what  will  become  of  me, 
if  that  is  what  you  are  worrying  about.  City  mice 
sometimes  astonish  their  country  cousins." 


CHAPTER   VII 

BY  noon  on  the  ensuing  day  the  Kingdon  caval 
cade  had   put   many   hundred   feet  between 
itself    and    the    valley.      The  lower    lands, 
decked   in   their   cloth   of   gold   of   cottonwood   and 
frosted  weeds  and  grasses,  lay  already  far  beneath, 
and  the  wagons  moved  slowly  across  the  high  ranges. 
The  road  becoming  steeper  and  more  rugged,  Sylvia 
took  David's  advice  and  abandoned  the  spring  wagon 
for  the  saddle  and  Virginia  Boy,  who,  born  and  bred 
in  the  mountains,  reverted  to  the  habits  of  his  type 
without  protest.     A  second  wagon  followed,  packed 
with  a  Chinaman  and  the  necessaries  of  existence. 

To  right  and  left  spread  the  rolling  prairie,  to  which 
the  ascent  had  been  a  protracted  struggle  through  the 
deep  sand  of  the  lower  mesa,  or  across  the  firm  bot 
toms  of  arroyos,  now  dry,  but  in  the  season  of  the 
summer  storms  the  beds  of  torrents  which  poured 
themselves,  roaring  with  the  sound  of  many  waters, 
into  the  valley.  Here  is  the  tierra  encantada,  carry 
ing  upon  its  surface  only  the  desert  fruits,  but  bear 
ing  within  its  bosom  promise  a  thousand  fold  of  nearly 
all  the  fruits  that  grow. 

76 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          77 

Under  such  a  heaven  of  blue,  and  breathing  such  an 
air,  Sylvia's  fears  for  her  husband  began  to  seem 
unreal.  As  the  path  wound  upward  betwixt  rocks  and 
boulders,  she  turned  and  said: 

"But  where  does  the  stock  graze,  David?" 

He  pointed  to  the  glimpse  of  the  prairie,  seen  now 
only  through  breaks  in  the  rocky  walls.  "As  far  as 
you  can  see.  We  keep  only  the  choicest  cows  in  the 
Canon." 

"  But  if  there  are  no  fences,  how  can  you  ever  find 
them  ?  " 

"  We  are  in  the  midst  of  our  semi-annual  round-up 
now,  and  to-morrow,  if  you  are  very,  very  good,  we'll 
ride  out  and  meet  the  chuck-wagon.  Dick  will  know 
where  the  men  are  to  eat  dinner.  All,  here  comes 
Dick!" 

A  typical  cow-puncher — or  rather  a  very  fine 
sample  of  his  class — was  riding  toward  them.  It  re 
quires  a  man  with  a  good  figure  to  carry  off  a  style  of 
horsemanship  which  has  its  uses,  even  its  graces,  where 
bunching  or  roping  cattle  is  concerned;  but  for  less 
strenuous  effort  this  same  figure  may  be  ungainly 
and  ludicrous  beyond  the  power  of  language  to 
depict. 

Dick,  somewhat  awkward  and  too  long  of  limb  out 
of  the  saddle,  was  in  it  the  perfection  of  a  Western 


78          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

horseman,  and  a  fine,  handsome  fellow  to  boot — 
healthy,  ruddy  and  blue-eyed. 

"How  goes  it,  Dick?     All  well?" 

"Middlin',  Mr.  Kingdon.     How's  yourself?" 

"  Better  than  middling.  Here,  Dick,  I've  brought 
you  a  new  boss.  Sylvia,  I'm  introducing  you  to  one 
of  my  best  friends." 

Blushing  and  embarrassed,  Dick  shoved  his  "  cuttin' 
horse  " — one  of  the  finest  professionals  on  the  ranges 
— close  beside  hers,  and  held  out  his  hand.  The  frank 
smile  with  which  she  met  the  advance  completed  a  con 
quest  whose  value  was  yet  to  be  estimated. 

As  Sylvia  rode  on  ahead,  leaving  the  two  men  to 
follow  and  talk  business,  Dick's  glance  repeatedly 
wandered  to  the  Boy. 

"Awful  fine  horse,  Mr.  Kingdon!  But  kind  o' 
tender  for  this  country,  ain't  he  ?  " 

"  No,  Dick ;  there  you're  out  for  once.  He's  a  Vir 
ginia  mountain-horse,  and  next  to  the  range-ponies 
they're  the  toughest  and  soundest  made.  It's  the 
good  blood  and  the  raising,  I  guess.  This  fellow  has 
all  the  grit  you  can  ask  for,  and  if  he  ever  is  called  on 
I  am  pretty  badly  mistaken  if  he  doesn't  make  a  show 
ing  in  endurance  that's  going  to  astonish  you  all.  He 
was  bit  tender  when  he  first  came  from  the  city  stable, 
but  he's  hardening  every  day." 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          79 

"  He's  mountain-bred,  all  right,"  assented  Dick ; 
"  see  how  pretty  he  handles  his  feet  over  them  rocks ! 
And  don't  she  handle  him  pretty,  too ! " 

David  smiled.  "  You  wait  awhile,  Dick,  and  they'll 
both  astonish  you.  My  wife  shall  sing  the  heart  out 
of  you  to-night.  But  hold  on  now — fall  back  a  piece 
— you've  something  to  tell  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  I  have.  But  we've  got  to  brand  that 
horse,  and  in  a  hurry,  too." 

"  It  must  be  done  this  very  night,  and  done  on  the 
quiet." 

"  Surely !  We  ain't  a-goin'  to  say  nothin'  about  it 
till  it's  all  over.  Some  women  is  mighty  curious  and 
tender-hearted." 

David  smiled  again,  this  time  at  the  perspicuity  of 
his  factotum,  and  the  two  dropped  into  serious  con 
verse,  while  Sylvia  rode  alone  through  the  opening 
jaws  of  the  canon. 

Here  were  trees,  hemlock  and  pinon,  quaking  asp 
and  mountain  ash,  clambering  up  the  precipitous 
sides  of  this  fan-shaped  recess  in  the  mountains,  and 
meandering  along  the  banks  of  the  stream — scarcely 
wider  than  a  ditch — which  ran  through  wild  oats  and 
grasses.  Midway  up  the  canon  stood  a  small  but  sub 
stantial  rock  house,  wearing  something  the  aspect  of  a 


80          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

fortress  in  miniature.  Twenty  yards  or  so  removed 
from  it  was  a  long  shed — the  cow-men's  sleeping-place, 
as  Sylvia  learned  later. 

Turning,  she  saw  that  her  husband  was  out  of  ear 
shot,  and,  what  was  of  more  importance,  that  Dick 
was  imparting  information  of  a  serious  nature.  In  a 
moment  her  sense  of  exhilaration  was  overpowered  by 
the  swelling  tide  of  the  previous  night's  alarms.  Over 
the  rampart-like  walls  of  the  canon  she  saw  in  imagi 
nation  the  heads  of  unknown  foes;  and  the  house  of 
rocks,  with  its  tremendous  doors,  became  on  the  instant 
a  castle  of  defence. 

But  David  soon  clattered  up  beside  her,  and  his 
quick  eye  noted  at  once  the  change  in  her  face.  He 
leaned  sideways  out  of  his  deep  saddle  and  laid  his 
hand  on  hers. 

"  Cheer  up,  Sylvia  mm!  We're  going  to  have  the 
best  of  good  times  in  this  rough  place,  you  and  I ! " 

She  brightened  with  an  effort. 

"Oh,  it's  beautiful  here,  David!  It's  not  that." 
Her  voice  failed  her. 

"  Oh,  it's  I,  is  it  ?  " — coming  nearer  still,  and  stoop 
ing  to  look  into  her  half-averted  eyes.  He  laughed 
cheerily,  and  as  he  lifted  her  from  her  horse  at  the 
door  he  held  her  close  for  a  moment. 

But  he  did  not  forget,  nor  treat  her  emotion  as  a 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          81 

passing  mood.  During  the  entire  evening  he  con 
trived  to  keep  her  anxieties  at  bay  by  a  display  of 
thoughtfulness  and  tact  for  even  which  his  critic, 
Buckley,  would  have  commended  him,  and  the  delight 
and  amusement  afforded  by  the  primitive  arrange 
ments  of  their  temporary  home  admirably  seconded  his 
efforts.  Sylvia  sang,  and  her  melodious  voice  pro 
duced  upon  Dick  the  expected  result.  After  she  had 
retired  to  her  room,  sufficiently  wearied  and  diverted — 
and,  David  trusted,  to  sleep  throughout  the  night — he 
lit  his  cigar  and  stepped  out  into  the  open,  where  his 
foreman  awaited  him. 

"  Your  brand's  on  him,  sir — right  under  the  mane, 
where  it's  never  goin'  to  show  in  the  world.  But  I 
could  wish  as  you  hadn't  brought  Mrs.  Kingdon  up 
this  time,"  added  Dick,  as  they  walked  around  in  the 
starlight. 

David  smoked  awhile  in  silence. 

"  Dick,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  for  some  reasons  I 
could  almost  wish  so,  too.  But  Mrs.  Kingdon  is  game 
—all  through." 

"You  haven't  been  acquainted  with  her  so  awful 
long,"  persisted  the  faithful  foreman,  dubiously,  fall 
ing  into  the  common  error  of  his  kind,  which  associates 
courage  and  endurance  with  coarser  attributes  than 
those  appertaining  to  the  second  Mrs.  Kingdon. 


82          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

David  smiled.  "No,  Dick,  I've  not  known  her  so 
very  long,  you're  right  about  that — not  a  year,  all 
told.  But  let  me  tell  you  something:  she  married  me 
to  be  my  helpmate  and  true  wife,  and  to  stand  by  me ; 
and  she's  going  to  do  it,  too,  you  can  bet  on  that. 
At  the  same  time,  I  don't  want  her  to  be  tested  too  far, 
if  it  can  be  avoided." 

"  Me,  neither.  She  ain't  the  kind  for  this  sort 
o'  work.  But  I  don't  know  as  we'll  have  any  trouble. 
Berry's  mostly  blow." 


CHAPTER    VIII 

SHE  regarded  him  intently,  and  continued  in 
the  slowest  and  softest  of  voices,  "  You  look 
like  an  excessively  naughty  little  boy." 

David  had  been  offending  after  an  impertinent 
manner  peculiarly  his  own.  Sylvia  had  not  yet  dis 
covered  the  graver  offence  of  the  branding.  All  feel 
ing  of  impending  tragedy  had  been  blown  out  of  the 
canon  on  the  morning  breeze,  and  the  two  stood  con 
fronting  one  another  upon  the  rocks  before  the  house, 
in  the  sunlit  silence  succeeding  the  bustle  of  Dick's 
departure. 

David  made  a  saucy  moue  at  her,  with  him  a  virtual 
acknowledgment  of  discomfiture. 

"There!"  she  cried  triumphantly;  "I  knew  it! 
How  much  for — 

But  the  sentence  was  never  completed  according  to 
original  intention ;  the  culprit  himself  managed  that. 
Then,  as  he  dodged  the  resulting  missile  with  char 
acteristic  agility,  and  sprang  around  the  corner  of  the 
house,  Sylvia  ran  through  the  hall  to  cut  him  off, 
flung  open  the  back  door,  and  discovered — no  longer 

83 


84          THE   HUMAN    TOUCH 

the  David  who  had  just  escaped  her,  but  another 
David,  his  face  darker  than  the  shadow  in  which  he 
stood,  his  lips  compressed. 

A  cowboy,  sitting  sideways  upon  his  horse,  had 
evidently  that  moment  handed  him  the  note  over  which 
his  eyes  were  running  with  lightning-like  celerity ;  and 
it  was  with  a  flash  almost  equal  to  lightning  that  the 
word  and  the  upward  glance  followed. 

"Is  this  all?" 

"  Ya-as;  all  as  I  knows  on." 

"  Where  are  the  calves  ?  " 

The  man  jerked  his  thumb  in  the  direction  of  the 
northern  wall  of  the  canon.  There  was  an  instant's 
hesitation,  interpreted  aright  by  Sylvia. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  to  stay  here  alone,"  she  said, 
stepping  forward.  Now  this  was  untrue,  but  even  a 
Sylvia  must  be  allowed  her  moments  of  prevarication. 

David  waved  his  hand  impatiently.  "  I'll  be 
there." 

The  emissary  of  Berry  wheeled  his  pony,  and  went 
loping  down  the  rocky  path. 

David  was  not  given  to  hurried  and  perfunctory 
caresses,  so  it  was  merely  with  an  anxious,  "  You're 
sure  you  won't  be  afraid  ?  Dick  and  the  Chinaman 
will  be  back  before  long,  and  there's  nothing  that  can 
possibly  annoy  you — you're  sure?  "  that  he  loosed  his 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          85 

horse  from  the  hitching-post,  and  flung  himself  across 
the  saddle,  leaving  reverberating  and  dying  echoes 
behind  him. 

A  sudden  gust  of  anger  seized  Sylvia.  Where  was 
he  going?  What  was  the  trouble?  Why  did  he 
not  trust  her?  Had  she  not  been  forbearing  toward 
the  secret iveness  from  which  she  had,  with  some  show 
of  justice,  believed  she  was  slowly  winning  him? 

The  tremendous  loneliness  of  the  place  entered  into 
the  soul  of  the  city-bred  girl.  Her  heart  boomed  in 
her  ears.  How  would  David  feel  if  he  were  to  return 
to  find  that  she  had  been  murdered  by  outlaws — or 
that  she  had  been  devoured  by  mountain-lions  ?  It  was 
the  Ewigweibliche  again,  old  as  the  eternal  hills.  This 
woman  glanced  half  expectantly,  half  fearfully,  up 
the  terrific  walls  of  the  canon,  to  which  the  trees 
clung,  here  timorously,  there  confidently  and  with 
spreading  branches,  according  to  the  steepness  or 
gradualness  of  the  ascent.  Not  a  leaf  stirred;  the 
rare  birds  of  the  high  altitude  were  mute;  only  the 
self-absorbed  chatter  of  the  Rio  Chiquito  upon  the 
rocks  disturbed  the  silence. 

"  They  say  people  rise  to  occasions,"  Sylvia  medi 
tated,  ruefully;  "perhaps  this  is  my  occasion — Gott 
bewahr!  " 

These  lapses  on  the  part  of  her  husband — what  were 


86          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

they  but  the  result  of  "  the  mould  of  plastic  circum 
stance  "  ?  They  were  few  and  far  between  now — 
anc[ — pshaw!  She  arose.  Peace  was  restored.  The 
desire  to  know,  ergo  to  help,  remained — that  was  all. 
Idle  curiosity,  that  most  plebeian  of  all  vices,  did  not 
rank  among  the  shortcomings  of  Sylvia. 

In  the  long  shed  within  the  stone-walled  corral  the 
Boy  stood,  busy  with  a  lunch  of  gramma  hay.  His 
mistress  strolled  up  to  him.  As  she  passed  her  fingers 
through  his  thin,  fine  mane  he  winced,  and  tossed  his 
head  fretfully.  Simultaneously  she  gave  vent  to  an 
exclamation  of  horror.  There,  high  up  on  his  neck, 
was  the  Kingdon  brand,  raw  and  fresh!  For  one 
abandoned  moment  another  access  of  feeling  threat 
ened  to  overwhelm  Sylvia,  but  reason  was  now  too 
firmly  established  upon  her  throne.  David  undoubt 
edly  had  good  cause  for  his  action,  although  to  injured 
sensibilities  it  might  look  like  one  of  crass  brutality. 
The  horse  resumed  his  contented  munching,  and  his 
mistress  leaned  against  his  powerful  shoulder  specu 
lating. 

"Have  the  boss  came?"  said  a  voice  at  her  elbow; 
"  there's  a  heap  o'  water  to  pack  yet,  so  I  made  tracks 
for  home,  and " 

Dick  stopped  short,  consternation  and  amusement 
struggling  for  the  mastery  in  his  honest  eyes. 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH  87 

"  About  that  horse,  Mrs.  Kingdon —  ''  he  began 
again,  lamely. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,  Dick.  Of  course  there  was 
some  good  reason,  or  it  would  not  have  been  done. 

But,  Dick "  she  moved  toward  him,  looking  up  in 

his  face. 

Dick  felt  that  he  was  indeed  lost — that  he  was  about 
to  give  everything  away.  The  wife  of  the  boss  was 
pulling  her  bow  at  a  venture,  but  that  of  course  he 
did  not  know.  The  cow-puncher  removed  his  flapping 
sombrero,  and  gazed  earnestly  into  it,  as  if  there 
guidance  was  to  be  found. 

"  Lookee  here,  Mrs.  Kingdon,"  he  said,  at  length, 
"it's  just  this  way:  The  boss  he  says  as  how  you've 
came  to  help  him,  and  it's  my  belief  as  he's  got  it  down 
right.  All  I've  got  to  say  is  that  if  he  thinks  Berry 
has  the  first  idea  of  givin'  up  the  calves,  and  no  more 
said — well,  he's  a-goin'  to  git  most  almightily  left !  " 

"What  is  going  to  happen  when  Mr.  Kingdon 
finds  out,  Dick?  You  know  he  isn't  in  the  habit  of 
getting  left." 

Dick  grinned  with  enjoyment  at  the  perspicacity 
of  this  new  wife  of  the  boss. 

"  That's  right !  The  trouble  is  that  Mr.  Kingdon 
ain't  got  no  more  use  for  Berry  than  he  has  for  doby 
mud.  He  don't  even  like  to  glimpse  him  through  a 


88          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

winder-glass,  so  maybe  it'll  come  on  him  kind  o' 
sudden.  He  won't  suspicion  it  all  to  oncet.  Then 
Lord  help  us  all!" 

Dick's  eyes  twinkled  irrepressibly,  despite  his  pious 
exclamation. 

"  I  would  say,"  he  added,  with  another  effort  at 
solemnity,  "  as  th5  ain't  a  ghost  of  a  showin'  for  Berry 
when  the  boss  sure  enough  jumps  on  him.  There's 
nothin'  as  I  can  do  for  you,  Mrs.  Kingdon?  I'm 
a-goin'  up  the  canon  to  pack  water,  as  the  men's  all 
away." 

It  was  not  until  the  following  morning  that  Dick 
and  Sylvia  met  again. 

"Mrs.  Kingdon  a-goin'  to  ride  that  horse?"  the 
boss  cow-puncher  inquired,  as  he  rode  up  to  the  house 
in  time  to  behold  David  mounting  his  wife  upon  the 
Boy. 

"  I  guess  he's  all  right,  Dick.     Why  not?" 

"  Well,  supposin'  as  he  was  to  git  skeered?  There's 
an  awful  racket  a-goin'  on  down  there." 

And  Dick  turned  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the 
canon's  mouth,  from  whence  proceeded  the  distant 
howls  and  bellows  of  infuriated  beasts. 

"What  do  you  say,  Sylvia?"  said  David,  pausing 
in  the  arrangement  of  her  riding-skirt.  "Are  you 
sure  you  can  control  him?" 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          89 

"  Quite  sure,"  she  answered,  gaily.  "  Don't  be 
uneasy,  Dick.  The  Boy's  what  the  stablemen  at 
home  called  'a  bold  horse.'  He  enjoyed  the  fuss  at 
the  Horse  Show  every  year." 

"This  ain't  no  Horse  Show,  Mrs.  Kingdon,"  was 
the  cowboy's  somewhat  grave  retort. 

"  But  indeed,  Dick,  he's  safe ! "  persisted  Sylvia. 
"Anyhow,  he  must  get  accustomed  to  everything, 
if  he's  going  to  live  here." 

The  reasoning  was  admitted  to  be  sound. 

"But  I  shall  not  be  able  to  stay  by  you,  Sylvia," 
put  in  David,  somewhat  affected  by  Dick's  gloomy 
prognostications.  "  I  shall  be  in  the  thick  of  it  most 
of  the  time." 

Sylvia  replied  by  patting  her  horse's  neck,  who 
with  pricked  ears  was  staring  down  the  cafion.  Then 
she  drew  herself  up  and  smiled  upon  the  anxious  faces 
of  the  two  men.  David  could  only  laugh  and  mount 
his  own  cow-pony,  and  the  party  rode  off. 

The  round-up  was  complete  in  the  sense  that  the 
stock  was  collected  on  the  open  plain,  and  now  it 
remained  only  for  the  cowboys  of  the  various  owners 
to  cut  out  their  own  beasts  for  shipment. 

As  Sylvia  sat  alone  upon  her  horse,  who,  devoured 
with  curiosity,  stood  so  far  tense  and  still,  the  exhila 
ration  born  of  the  splendid  scene  and  air  of  this 


90          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

glorious  fall  morning  seemed  almost  more  than  she 
could  bear  in  quietude.  David,  however,  waved  his 
hand,  signalling  at  the  same  time  to  her  to  be  cau 
tious  ;  for  the  fun  was  beginning  in  earnest,  and  soon, 
losing  thought  of  all  else  in  the  interest  of  it,  Sylvia 
began  to  move  nearer  and  nearer. 

David  was  in  the  thick  of  it,  as  he  had  foretold, 
not  perhaps  quite  such  an  adept  as  Dick  on  his 
famous  "  cuttin'  horse,"  but  in  his  activity  and  fear 
lessness  giving  place  to  no  other  cow-puncher  present. 
Sylvia's  heart  glowed  with  pride  as  she  watched  him. 
Once  he  pulled  up  for  an  instant,  and  faced  her.  His 
soft  hat  was  pushed  backward,  his  brown  eyes  were 
clear  and  lambent  with  the  joy  of  action.  Sylvia 
resolved  that  she  would  begin  a  portrait  of  him  the 
very  next  day,  just  as  he  looked  at  that  moment, 
crimson  shirt  and  all,  and  that  it  should  be  a  study 
in  red  and  brown.  She  could  think  now,  with  a 
sensation  more  akin  to  affectionate  amusement  than 
pain,  of  her  mother's  disgust  could  she  but  behold 
her  daughter's  pride  in  the  cowboy  achievements  of 
"  Mrs.  Newman's  son-in-law !  " 

In  and  out,  around  and  around,  through  the 
tangled  mass  of  horns  and  hides,  the  riders  threaded 
their  way,  until  gradually  the  mass  began  to  resolve 
itself  into  separate  "  bunches."  The  bunch  nearest 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          91 

to  her  was  composed  of  Kingdon  stock,  and  was  so 
restless  that  it  needed  the  efforts  of  three  men  to  keep 
it  rounded  up.  Suddenly  two  steers  broke  away  and 
made  for  the  diminished  herd,  followed  in  wild  pur 
suit  by  two  of  the  cowboys.  For  a  minute  or  so,  it 
looked  as  though  some  roping  would  have  to  be  done 
if  the  refractory  brutes  were  to  be  prevented  from 
allying  themselves  once  more  with  the  main  herd, 
but  the  men  succeeded  in  turning  them  just  in  time, 
and  were  racing  back  to  the  bunch  with  their  cap 
tives,  when  Sylvia  perceived  that,  in  spite  of  the 
now  solitary  herder's  best  efforts,  a  cow  was  tearing 
toward  the  canon  at  top  speed.  It  was  evident  that 
the  one  herder  in  charge  was,  for  the  moment, 
helpless, 

"  If  you  think  I'm  going  to  let  you  get  there ! " 
muttered  the  wife  of  the  boss,  and  set  her  teeth. 

The  Boy  was  plunging,  shaking  his  head  and  tear 
ing  at  the  bit. 

"  I'll  do  some  cowboying,  too ! "  she  cried,  and  let 
the  blooded  horse  go. 

It  was  glorious  fun,  she  thought,  as  the  wind  of 
her  flight  whistled  in  her  ears,  and  the  thunder  of 
the  Boy's  hoofs  reverberated  on  the  rock  road  leading 
into  the  canon.  Catch  that  cow  before  it  made  the 
canon  she  would,  even  if  she  broke  her  neck  in  the 


92          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

attempt !  What  joy  of  life !  Why  was  she  not  born 
a  cow-puncher!  To  the  shouts  in  her  rear  she  paid 
no  heed.  She  had  forgotten  David,  she  had  for 
gotten  everything  in  the  mad  rapture  of  the  race. 

Another  moment,  and  she  had  passed  the  fugitive, 
had  wheeled,  and  the  now  rearing  horse  confronted 
the  amazed  beast.  Sylvia  had  neither  rope  nor  quirt, 
nothing  but  a  small  riding-switch,  and  for  an  instant 
she  feared  that  she  was  going  to  make  a  failure  of  her 
first  attempt  at  a  new  trade.  But  her  cries  and  the 
plunging  of  the  horse  across  the  narrow  trail  finally 
disconcerted  the  cow,  and  Sylvia  had  begun  the  return 
trip  with  her  prize  when  David  came  up  with  some 
of  the  men,  who  relieved  her  of  her  task.  The  men 
were  shouting  "  Bravo !  " — but  David  looked  white 
and  frightened. 

"Oh,  Sylvia,  you  bad,  bad  girl!"  he  exclaimed, 
in  a  voice  meant  for  her  ear  alone.  "What  am  I  do 
do  with  you  ?  " 

Yet,  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  her  face,  triumphant  and 
beautiful,  the  colour  came  back  into  his  own.  Here 
was  yet  another  Sylvia,  he  thought;  when  would  she 
cease  to  surprise  him? 

"And  now  you'll  have  to  come  home,  madam,"  he 
added,  "  even  if  I  have  to  take  you  there  myself." 

As  they  turned  the  corner  out  of  sight  of  the  men, 


She  had  forgotten  everything  in  the  mad  rapture  of  the  race. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          93 

he  put  forth  his  hand  and  caught  hers.  "You  gave 
me  a  bad  scare,"  he  said,  gravely.  "Dearest,  what 
would  become  of  me  if  I  were  to  lose  you  ?  " 

"  You'll  never  lose  me  off  a  horse,  Davie,"  she 
returned,  lightly,  pressing  his  fingers  nevertheless; 
"  I  think  you  may  rest  assured  on  that  point." 

But  David  was  still  serious. 

It  was  sundown  before  the  cutting-out  was  com 
plete,  and  the  Kingdon  stock  rounded  up.  Night 
closed  upon  a  peaceful  scene.  Cooking  in  the  chuck- 
wagon  was  going  merrily  forward.  Some  few  of  the 
men  were  paid  off,  and  the  rest  were  divided  into 
watches.  But  still  David  was  uneasy  and  restless. 

"  I  guess  I'll  go  down  to  the  store  to-night,  Sylvia," 
he  observed,  at  length.  "  There  are  one  or  two  of 
Berry's  men  I  want  to  watch.  I  won't  be  long  away, 
and  Dick  shall  stay  with  you." 

"  Then  Dick  shall  teach  me  how  to  handle  a  six- 
shooter,"  retorted  Sylvia.  "  By  the  time  you  get 
home  I  shall  know  how  to  *  take  them  in.'  and  '  do 
them  up.'  Isn't  that  right,  Dick?" 

The  moon  was  shining  with  a  brilliancy  peculiar 
to  that  region,  so  the  two  left  behind  turned  jest  into 
earnest  by  going  outdoors  and  starting  the  proposed 
lesson.  Suddenly  Sylvia  paused  in  her  manipula 
tions. 


94          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  Wait !  I  hear  children  coming.  I  won't  try  my 
first  shot  until  they  have  passed.  They  might  be 
scared." 

Mountain  children  "  gittin'  skeered  "  seemed  funny 
to  Dick,  but  he  obeyed  nevertheless.  The  voices 
came  nearer. 

"  My  Paw  says  as  somethin's  a-goin'  to  git  crippled 
down  to  the  store  to-night,"  remarked  the  small 
maiden,  as  she  tripped  along  swinging  her  sunbonnet 
by  the  strings. 

"  And  Maw  says  you  bet  Sam  Berry  knows  a  heap 
more'n  he  lets  on  to  know,"  piped  the  other  youngster, 
a  boy.  Then  the  children  took  hands  and  started 
to  run. 

Sylvia  looked  at  her  companion. 

"  Dick,"  she  said,  in  an  awe-struck  whisper, 
"  do  you  suppose  that  Berry  really  did  steal  the 
cattle?" 

"  I'm  not  supposin'  nothin',"  was  the  reply ;  "  I 
know  as  he  intended  so  to  do,  and  the  men  as  swiped 
'em  for  him  is  down  to  the  store  now.  Tim,  our  man 
as  suspicioned  them  and  located  the  cows,  has  been 
paid  up  to-day  and  is  to  the  store,  too — more  fool  he ! 
Those  fellers  from  Berry's  '11  put  up  some  job  on 
him,  sure's  he's  born ! " 

"What  will  Mr.  Kingdon  do  about  it,  Dick?" 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          95 

"  Down  'cm,  if  so  be  as  he's  able.  He's  boss  here ; 
this  land's  all  Kingdon  land." 

"  Dick,  I  wish  you  were  there  to  help  him!" 

"That's  right!"  ejaculated  her  companion, 
heartily.  "  But  it's  laid  down  for  me  to  stay  by 
you  this  night,  and  nothin'  ain't  a-goin'  to  hurt  the 
boss.  You  can  make  yourself  easy  about " 

A  shot — then  another  and  another  flashed  upon  the 
white  silence  of  the  night. 

"  Dick ! " 

"  All  right,  Mrs.  Kingdon," — soothingly — "  now 
don't  you  worry !  When  the  boys  is  paid  it  often 
happens  as  the  earth  is  lit  with  their  guns,  but  like 
as  not  it  don't  mean  nothin'." 

A  few  minutes  of  breathless  listening;  then  up  the 
echoing  canon  were  borne  shouts,  curses,  yells. 

"Dick— go!     Go/" 

"  No,  Mrs.  Kingdon,  I  can't  do  that." 

Sylvia  was  rapidly  losing  her  self-control. 

"Dick,  you  must — you  must!" — twisting  her 
slender  fingers  together  as  she  spoke.  "  I'll  never 
forgive  you  if  anything  happens  to  him !  Oh,  go ! " 

Dick  considered.  That  something  was  wrong 
"  down  to  the  store  "  he  knew  far  better  than  Sylvia 
could  tell  him.  That  any  one  would  abandon  the 
fun  to  annoy  the  folks  at  the  house  seemed  to  him 


96          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

the  height  of  improbability,  and  he  could  send  Tim 
directly  back  to  Mrs.  Kingdon;  it  would  be  better 
anyhow  for  the  chap  to  be  out  of  the  way.  And 
whilst  he  thus  pondered  Sylvia  was  still  pleading. 

"Well,"  he  said,  hesitatingly,  "let's  see  first  if 
I've  learned  you  how  to  handle  that  gun." 

"  Yes— yes !     Isn't  it  thus  ?— and  so  ?  " 

Secretly  amazed  at  her  quickness,  he  yielded;  and 
with  injunctions  that  she  should  lock  herself  into  the 
house  and  open  to  no  one  whose  voice  she  did  not 
recognise,  the  big  fellow  suffered  himself  to  be  almost 
pushed  to  his  horse,  which  he  thereupon  mounted 
and  clattered  away. 

"Tim  shall  be  along  in  five  minutes,"  were  his 
parting  words. 


CHAPTER     IX 

SOMETHING  was  wrong  "  down  to  the  store," 
and  for  Tim  minutes  no  longer  existed. 
Gay  doings  initiated  the  evening's  perform 
ances.     Sunburned,  ruddy  mountain  lasses,  many  of 
whom  had  galloped  ten  or  fifteen  miles  for  the  chance 
of  a  "  hop,"  twirled  or  sat  with  partners  in  the  room 
behind  the  store,  and  in  the  saloon  attached  gambling 
proceeded  amicably.     Indeed,  for  an  hour  or  two  it 
appeared  as  if  this  peaceable  state  of  affairs  might 
continue  indefinitely. 

"  There,"  exclaimed  one  of  the  married  women, 
peering  into  the  saloon,  and  nudging  a  companion, 
"yon's  the  feller — one  o'  the  Kingdon  boys  as  the 
Berry  crowd  has  a  grudge  against  by  reason  of  his 
suspicionin'  as  it  were  they  as  swiped  them  cows — 
him  as  is  playin'  with  Long  Tom." 

"  Ain't  Long  Tom  a  Berry  feUer?  " 

"Sure!" 

"JVhovah!  If  they  gits  ter  crackin'  their  guns 
this  night,  won't  there  be  a  racket,  though!" 

"You  bet!  And  that  Long  Tom— th'  ain't  his 
beat  on  this  earth  for  right  down  meanness  and 

97 


98          THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

cussedness!  There — hark  to  him  now!  That's  him 
talkin'." 

The  women  drew  nearer.  Long  Tom's  voice  was 
plainly  audible. 

"  You  give  me  back  my  money.  T'ain't  but  thirty 
cents,  but  I  mean  to  have  it  just  the  same!" 

"No,  I  won't!"  retorted  Tim;  "I  won  it  fair. 
We'll  set  up  the  drinks  on  it." 

"  No ;  you  give  me  my  money,  or  I'll  kill  you ! " 

"Well— kill  me." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Kingdon!"  cried  one  of  the  women, 
catching  sight  of  a  well-known  figure,  "  for  the  Lord's 
sake  come !  You  said  as  you  didn't  want  no  trouble, 
but  here  it  is  sure  enough ! "  Then,  with  a  piercing 
shriek,  "  Lord  o'  love !  He's  banged  loose  and  shotted 
him!" 

David  leaped  forward,  but  he  was  not  quick  enough. 
At  the  first  shot  the  saloon  had  pretty  well  emptied 
itself,  and  yelling,  "  Come  along,  boys — let's  wake  the 
dead!"  Long  Tom  kicked  out  the  bartender,  who 
was  only  too  glad  to  expedite  the  matter,  and  he  and 
two  or  three  friends  took  possession  of  the  saloon. 
David  threw  himself  against  the  hastily  barricaded 
door,  but  too  late.  A  display  of  Winchesters  and 
six-shooters  at  the  one  window  quenched  the  ambition 
of  his  supporters. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH          99 

In  the  confusion,  no  one  noticed  that  the  only  mem 
ber  of  the  "  Berry  crowd "  left  outside  mounted  his 
horse  and  rode  away. 

Furious  as  he  was,  David's  nimble  wit  came,  as  was 
fortunately  often  the  case,  to  the  aid  of  his  self-con 
trol.  This  was  a  plain  instance  of  possession  being 
nine  points  of  the  law.  He  glanced  around.  His 
own  men,  according  to  previous  instructions,  were 
nowhere  to  be  seen.  Two  or  three  cowboys  from  the 
smaller  ranches  were  present,  but  not  in  sufficient 
force  to  afford  support.  Moreover,  Berry,  backed 
by  a  large  and  powerful  clan,  was  feared  as  well  as 
hated.  As  for  the  mountain  people,  they  could  be 
loyal  enough  when  it  came  to  a  pinch,  but  this  affair 
was  a  little  too  desperate  to  plunge  into  headlong. 

Other  considerations  besides  were  being  embraced 
by  David's  rapidly  moving  mind:  here  was  a  chance 
legally  to  apprehend  Long  Tom  for  a  double  crime. 

"  Any  one  know  if  Cristol  or  his  deputy  are  at  the 
mining  camp  ?  "  he  asked  quickly. 

As  usual,  the  women  were  the  readiest  with  an 
answer. 

"  Sure !  My  old  man  seen  the  deputy  this  noon. 
Cristol's  gone." 

"Well,  I'm  going  after  the  deputy  and  a  posse. 
You  boys  watch  that  door.  Don't  attempt  to  force 


100        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

it  until  I  get  back,  but  let  fly  at  those  fellows  inside 
if  they  put  so  much  as  their  heads  out.     Hear?  " 

With  a  hastily  breathed  wish  for  John  Cristol  in 
the  valley,  and  the  blooded  horse  in  the  stable  up 
the  canon,  David  tore  away  on  his  five  mile  ride, 
thankful,  however,  for  two  things — first,  that  the 
faithful  Dick  was  in  charge  of  his  wife ;  second,  that 
official  business  had  called  any  kind  of  a  sheriff  to 
the  mining  camp  that  day. 

He  had  scarcely  vanished  when  Dick  arrived  upon 
the  scene,  to  be  immediately  inundated  with  in 
formation.  Elbowing  his  way  through  the  crowd, 
he  was  making  for  the  saloon,  when  he  was  forcibly 
dragged  back,  and  the  injunctions  and  intentions  of 
the  boss  poured  into  his  unwilling  ears.  He  fell 
back,  of  course,  but  not  before  his  eyes  had  beheld  a 
spectacle  which  filled  him  with  grief  and  rage;  for 
Tim  had  been  a  good  comrade  and  worker.  Upon 
the  bar-counter,  pulled  into  the  centre  of  the  room, 
lay  the  murdered  man,  the  glare  of  the  bar-lamps 
placed  at  his  head  reflected  in  the  wide  eyes,  which 
none  had  cared  to  close,  and  on  the  grime  and  pallor 
of  the  dead  face.  Long  Tom  and  his  friends  were 
holding  a  wake. 

Some  expressions  forced  their  way  through  Dick's 
shut  teeth,  as  he  reluctantly  retreated.  But  righteous 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         101 

wrath  did  not  make  him  forget  Mrs.  Kingdon.  The 
only  one  of  his  men  upon  whom  his  eyes  lighted  was 
a  young  fellow,  lately  hired,  but  who  had  already 
by  his  phenomenal  sobriety,  earned  the  title  of 
"  Waters."  True,  Mrs.  Kingdon  was  not  likely  to 
recognise  either  his  face  or  his  voice,  but  he  would 
mount  him  upon  his  own  horse;  Dick  had  already 
discovered  that  Sylvia  was  quicker  in  her  recognition 
of  horse  than  man.  The  boy  was  called  up  and  in 
structed.  He  departed  under  silent  protest,  alacrity 
in  departure,  under  the  circumstances,  being  too  phe 
nomenal  even  for  a  "  Waters." 

Halfway  up  the  canon  alacrity's  poor  substitute, 
obedience,  took  wings  and  fled.  This  was  the  first 
time  the  youth  had  been  present  at  a  "  sure-enough 
shootin'-match " ;  and  was  he,  for  any  woman  alive, 
going  to  absent  himself  before  the  "  show"  was  over? 
No;  he  was  not!  He  slipped  to  the  ground,  turned 
the  horse  loose  to  find  its  own  way  to  the  corral,  and 
stole  back  to  the  scene  of  enchantment,  taking  care, 
however,  to  keep  out  of  the  foreman's  sight. 

The  night  deepened.  Within  the  saloon  Long 
Tom  and  his  friends  continued  to  hold  high  revelry. 
Without,  the  small  crowd  waited,  muttering. 

Suddenly  the  hideous  scene  changed.  With  the 
clatter  and  jingle  of  heavily  armed  men,  the  sheriff 


102         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

and  a  hastily  organised  posse,  including  David,  burst 
into  the  canon.  In  a  minute  the  crazy  door  was 
staved  in.  The  gang  inside,  with  the  exception  of 
their  leader,  who  possessed  a  head  as  long  as  his  name, 
were  by  this  time  too  drunk  to  make  much  resistance. 
If  Long  Tom  was  drunk,  he  was  "  fighting  "  drunk, 
and  for  a  while,  as  the  spectators  remarked,  "made 
things  real  lively."  The  struggle,  however,  was 
brief.  He  was  overpowered,  handcuffed,  dragged 
out  of  the  house,  and  tied  to  a  tree.  The  other  men 
were  roped  and  thrown  upon  the  floor,  where  they 
lay,  gloriously  drunk  and  very  happy.  Then  a  sort 
of  informal  coroner's  inquest  was  held  over  the  corpse, 
which  finally  was  carried  into  the  back  room  to  await 
more  strictly  legal  proceedings. 

The  trouble  at  an  end,  and  the  prisoner  again 
inspected,  there  was  a  general  exodus  to  the  dis 
mantled  bar.  The  bartender  was  reinstated,  little 
the  worse  for  his  experience,  and  the  crowd  proceeded 
to  refresh  itself  at  the  modest  rate  of  one  drink  to  a 
man;  "Waters"  excepted,  who  had  just  now  very 
particular  reasons  for  living  up  to  his  soubriquet. 
He  had,  so  far,  remained  unobserved  by  Dick,  who 
had  seized  upon  the  first  available  moment  to  assure 
David  of  his  wife's  safety. 

While  they  lingered  at  the  bar,  the  sheriff — an 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         103 

inferior  man  to  Cristol,  both  as  regarded  intelligence 
and  resource — and  David  were  discussing  in  low  tones 
the  difficulties  sure  to  be  encountered  in  meting  out 
justice  to  the  robber  and  murderer,  for  he  would 
receive  powerful  support. 

When  the  party  emerged  from  the  saloon  the  moon 
had  set,  and  the  blackness  that  precedes  the  dawn  had 
fallen  upon  the  canon. 

"  He's  awful  quiet,"  remarked  the  sheriff,  walking 
toward  the  prisoner's  tree. 

"  Had  about  enough,  I  guess ! "  laughed  one  of  the 
posse. 

Apparently  he  had ;  for  he  was  gone. 

Meanwhile,  for  Sylvia  too,  the  darkness  had 
deepened.  Alone  in  a  house  for  the  first  time  at 
night,  she  went  through  the  experience  of  all  per 
sons  endowed  with  the  somewhat  unusual  combination 
of  extreme  timidity  and  extreme  spirit.  The  agonis 
ing  fears  of  those  first  hours,  when  the  ears  are 
strained  for  every  sound,  yet  fail  in  their  duty  because 
of  the  loud  drumming  of  the  pulses,  gradually  gave 
place  to  a  slowly  rising  courage  to  meet  the  emer 
gency.  When  with  the  settling  of  the  moon  she  felt 
as  though  she  had  lost  her  only  friend,  and  the  insist 
ent  pressure  of  the  dark  drove  her,  so  to  speak,  to  the 


104        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

wall,  she  turned  and  faced  the  situation — desperately, 
if  you  will,  but  still  squarely. 

Something  had  undoubtedly  happened  to  prevent 
the  return  of  either  her  husband,  Dick,  or  any  other 
man.  But  in  those  early  terrors  she  had  run  the 
gamut  of  every  possible  tragedy,  and  was  now,  as 
she  believed,  keyed  to  meet  the  worst. 

The  windows  were  of  course  shut  down,  the  out 
side  blinds  closed,  and  the  slats  in  place.  Not  a 
breath  of  air  was  stirring,  yet  as  Sylvia  bent  over 
the  fire  she  became  distinctly  aware  that  the  slats 
were  being  handled,  and  that  some  one  was  endeav 
ouring  to  peer  into  the  room.  In  the  flash  of  a 
second  she  had  blown  out  the  lamp  and  grasped  the 
six-shooter  lying  on  the  table  beside  her.  She  could 
have  smiled  at  the  recollection  that,  a  scant  month 
before,  she  would  not  have  laid  a  finger  upon  the 
ugly  thing!  Although  the  blinds  and  windows  were 
fastened,  in  this  lonely  spot  and  with  consequently 
small  chance  of  interruption,  an  entrance  could  easily 
be  effected. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  sounds.  Either  be 
lieving  the  house  to  be  temporarily  deserted,  or  aware 
that  it  was  tenanted  only  by  a  "  woman  tenderfoot," 
a  hand  had  softly  forced  out  one  of  the  slats,  and 
was  working  now  on  the  lower  catch  of  the  blind. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         105 

Sylvia's  occasion  had  arrived,  and  with  it  flashed 
the  glorious  consciousness,  given  only  to  the  consti 
tutionally  timid  to  enjoy,  that  she  was  flung  entirely 
upon  her  own  resources,  and  that  she  was  not  merely 
equal  to  the  occasion,  but  felt  a  kind  of  triumph  in  it. 
As  she  swept  down  the  long  room  toward  the  window, 
this  rapturous  sense  of  exaltation  possessed  her  to  the 
exclusion  of  anything  approaching  bodily  fear.  Yet 
even  in  this  supreme  moment  the  idea  of  killing  a 
human  being  was  not  actually  present  with  her,  unless 
as  a  final  resort.  Raising  the  window  with  swift 
determination,  she  said,  firmly: 

"  I  am  going  to  shoot ! "  And  shoot  she  did — wide 
of  the  mark,  of  course,  as  might  be  expected  of  her 
inexperience  as  well  as  of  her  scruples,  but  with  a 
decision  and  rapidity  which,  combined  with  other 
causes  of  which  she  was  unaware,  had  the  desired 
effect.  Startled  by  the  unexpected  attack,  the  in 
truders  departed,  with  a  quick  scuffling  of  feet. 

But  Sylvia  had  not  done"  with  them.  Her  blood 
was  up.  She  followed  her  first  two  shots  by  two  more 
— equally  inefficient  in  one  sense,  yet  effectually 
bewildering  in  another — and,  listening  at  the  raised 
window,  discovered  that  the  house  was  not  the  prin 
cipal  object  of  assault,  and  had  not  been.  It  was 
Virginia  Boy  in  his  stable. 


106        THE   HUMAN    TOUCH 

She  could  see  nothing,  but  the  plunging  of  the 
horse  was  audible.  The  men  in  their  haste  to  escape 
had  alarmed  the  spirited  animal.  Undoubtedly  the 
one  who  had  come  to  the  house  had  done  so  merely  to 
spy  out  the  land  for  better  security,  the  other  work 
ing  meanwhile  with  the  strong  lock  David  himself 
had  put  on  the  stable  door. 

This  was  the  last  straw.  Reckless  now,  Sylvia 
flung  the  blinds  wide  and  fired  again.  This  time 
there  was  an  echo — more  than  that — a  rattle  of 
approaching  hoofs,  yells  and  more  shots.  She  heard 
David's  voice,  Dick's,  and  that  of  others. 

The  horse  was  safe ;  she  was  safe.     All  was  over ! 

Lighting  the  lamp  with  hands  that  shook,  she 
unlocked  the  door  and  stood,  shivering  a  little,  in 
the  entrance.  Every  sound  had  died  away  except 
the  sound  of  one  familiar  step;  and  in  a  minute 
David  himself  entered  the  house,  drawing  her  in  with 
him. 

"  You  poor  child ! "  he  murmured,  as  he  held  her 
close. 

But  Sylvia  drew  away. 

"Take  it!"  she  cried,  thrusting  the  empty  six- 
shooter  into  his  hand ;  "I  did  the  best  I  .could ! " 

Then,  ashamed  of  her  display  and  of  all  that  it 
had  cost  her,  she  ran  from  him  into  her  own  room. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         107 

But  David  was  not  thus  to  be  put  off.  He  followed, 
and  extracted  by  degrees  her  history  of  the  night, 
giving  her  in  turn  a  mild  version  of  the  other  story, 
and  telling  her  that  the  man  she  had  withstood  was 
the  redoubtable  Long  Tom  himself,  come  in  company 
of  a  far-sighted  friend  to  procure  the  fastest  horse  in 
the  country  for  his  flight. 

"  And,"  concluded  David,  smiling  a  little,  "  if  you 
had  not  ridden  the  Boy  to  the  round-up,  Tom  would 
have  known  nothing  about  him.  See  the  price  one 
pays  for  vanity,  madam!" 

"  Well,  I  saved  the  horse,  anyway ! " — defiantly. 
At  which  speech  David  was  obliged  to  laugh  outright. 


CHAPTER    X 

NOW,  Johnny,"  enjoined  David,  in  an  earnest 
undertone,  "  don't  you  give  me  away !  It's 
best  for  my  wife  to  believe  there's  no  more 
trouble  about  that  shooting.  You  and  I  and  a  few 
others  know  better,  but " 

The  visitor  nodded,  sagaciously. 

"  Here's  my  friend,  Mrs.  Johnson,  come  to  see  you, 
Sylvia,"  proceeded  David,  throwing  open  the  sitting- 
room  door.  A  week  had  passed  since  that  exciting 
night,  but  even  Cristol  had  not  yet  succeeded  in 
apprehending  the  murderer. 

In  the  doorway  stood  a  woman,  of  whom  the  first 
impression  was  size,  bright  eyes,  and  rosy  cheeks. 
With  the  overdone  dignity  of  the  class  which  is  not 
sure  of  its  social  standing,  she  surveyed  her  hostess 
coldly,  returning  the  warm  hand-pressure  with  but 
the  faintest  response.  With  the  same  elaboration  of 
stateliness  she  seated  herself  in  the  chair  brought 
forward  by  David. 

But  the  combination  of  an  ardent  regard  for  her 
host  and  the  well-bred  simplicity  of  her  hostess  soon 

108 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         109 

put  matters  on  an  easier  footing.  Mrs.  Johnson — 
or  Johnny,  as  she  delighted  in  having  David  call  her 
— quickly  showed  herself  in  her  true  colours ;  and 
when  Sylvia,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  doubted 
whether  her  guest  had  been  a  mountain  woman  all 
her  life,  the  genuine  Johnny  stood  revealed. 

"  Now,  ain't  she  smart  to  have  got  that  down  rightj 
and  so  quick  too ! "  she  exclaimed,  smiling  on  David, 
and  slipping  off  her  tight  visiting  gloves  with  a  sense 
of  relief.  "  No,  Mrs.  Kingdon,  I  ain't  mountain- 
bred.  I  married  into  the  San  Carlos  Johnsons — Ed 
Johnson,  one  of  the  best  husbands  an'  providers  as 
ever  stepped — and  come  here  at  eighteen  all  the  way 
from  Colorayder.  I  tell  you,  I  was  lonesome!  The 
Johnsons,  they  ain't  no  Texans  neither,"  she  added, 
bridling  proudly. 

"Now  we've  got  you  on  your  hobby,  Johnny!" 
exclaimed  David. 

"  You  hush  up ! "  was  the  retort.  "  Let  me  and 
your  wife  visit  together." 

"  May  I  really  go  out  and  play,  Johnny  ? "  he 
inquired,  anxiously. 

"  Oh,  go  along  with  you."  And  Johnny  beamed 
fondly  on  the  departing  back  of  her  idol. 

Left  alone  with  her  visitor,  Sylvia  found  herself, 
moment  by  moment  becoming  less  alive  to  externals, 


110         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

and  more  and  more  interested  in  this  woman  of 
multifarious  talents.  She  was  proving  a  veritable 
treasure-trove.  Two  hours  flew  by  before,  no  longer 
afflicted  with  dignity,  Mrs.  Johnson  sailed  briskly  out 
to  the  fence  where  her  horse  was  tied.  After  David 
had  helped  the  large  lady  to  mount  and  she  had  ridden 
away,  waving  her  farewells,  Sylvia  said : 

"  It  would  not  take  much  to  make  me  exceedingly 
fond  of  that  clever,  warm-hearted  woman." 

Here  again  was  one  of  those  surprises  to  which 
David's  wife  frequently  treated  him.  The  perfectly 
bred  woman  of  the  world,  with  all  that  the  term 
implies,  was  still  somewhat  of  a  puzzle  to  him.  He 
glanced  at  her  quickly ;  then  replied  in  a  tone  in  which 
relief  and  pleasure  were  evident : 

"I'm  so  glad,  Sylvia.  I  was  afraid  you  might 
be  damped  by  the  externals  in  the  case.  Johnny  is 
one  of  the  best  of  good  women — not  really  coarse  in 
the  least — and  you're  right  about  her  brains ;  she  has 
them.  She  knows  more  about  the  flora  and  fauna  of 
the  mountains  than  any  professor  in  the  country. 
She's  shrewd,  too,  and  helped  me  out  of  many  a  tight 
place  when  I  was  a  young  one  and  had  come  here 
green.  But  of  course  there  are  the  externals.  They 
are  bound  to  grate  on  you." 

True  enough;  they  were  bound  to  grate,  and  did 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH         111 

so  often.  Nevertheless  Mrs.  Johnson  soon  installed 
herself  in  the  affections  of  wife  as  well  as  husband; 
and  even  before  Sylvia  had  been  able  to  return  that 
first  visit,  more  than  one  note  from  Johnny's  fluent, 
if  scarcely  literate,  pencil  had  flown  across  the  moun 
tain  from  the  neighbouring  canon,  borne  by  her 
"  baby,"  Ted.  These  contained  information  interest 
ing  to  Sylvia,  and  relating  to  the  plants  or  flowers  of 
the  region. 

The  cold  weather — the  cold,  still  weather  of  that 
season,  each  day  a  glittering  shaft  of  penetrating 
sunlight — had  arrived,  when  Sylvia  set  out  to  visit 
her  new  friend.  The  blue  and  golden  glory  of  the 
fall  still  lingered,  though  the  gold  was  fading  fast, 
as  Sylvia  turned  her  horse's  head  toward  the  mouth  of 
Antelope  Canon  and  caught  sight  of  the  small  ranch, 
just  as  David  had  described  it,  situated  upon  the 
lowest  slope  of  the  eastern  mountain  wall,  and  fed 
by  tiny  irrigating  ditches  conducted  from  Antelope 
Creek. 

As  she  rode  up  to  the  door  Mrs.  Johnson  came 
hurrying  to  meet  her,  a  beautiful  little  dog  playing 
unrebuked  with  her  fluttering  skirts. 

"  Get  down  and  come  in ! "  cried  Johnny,  lending 
practical  assistance  to  her  invitation  as  she  spoke. 
In  a  trice  the  visitor  was  off  her  horse  and  the  animal 


112        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

tied  to  the  fence,  and  both  women  established  in  Mrs. 
Johnson's  combination  parlour-bedroom. 

"Oh,  what  a  beauty!"  exclaimed  Sylvia,  endeav 
ouring  as  she  spoke  to  entice  the  dog  to  her.  But 
Nino,  with  the  rooted  aversion  of  his  breed  to 
strangers,  stood  aloof,  making  nervous  little  jumps 
at  her  slightest  movement  toward  him. 

"Let  him  be,  Mrs.  Kingdon.  He'll  come  around 
after  a  while,  and  love  you  dearly.  But  Chihuahuas 
is  aways  that  way  till  they  knows  you — awful  shy!" 

"And  where  is  Teddy,  Mrs.  Johnson?  You  know 
he  and  I  are  good  friends  already." 

"  Ted?  Oh,  he's  somewheres  around,  working  at 
somethin' — sech  a  boy  to  work  as  never  was,  let  alone 
as  it  was  your  husband  when  he  was  a  chap." 

Sylvia  smiled.  "He's  not  exactly  lazy  now,  is 
he?" 

"My  sakes,  no!  Yet  I  can't  help  but  wish  as 
you'd  known  him  when  he  was  a  young  one,  Mrs. 
Kingdon — you  don't  mind  my  talkin'  of  him,  do 
you  ?  "  she  said,  breaking  off  abruptly.  "  He's  been 
just  the  same  as  one  of  my  own  so  long,  and  now  as 
he's  got  some  one  to  take  care  of  him  at  last,  it  does 
me  so  much  good  that  I  feel  as  if  I  just  had  to  talk 
about  it  all — see  ?  " 

Yes ;  Sylvia  saw  very  well,  and  there  was  something 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         113 

in  her  eyes  that  drew  Mrs.  Johnson  irresistibly  toward 
her,  and  impelled  her  to  launch  herself  upon  the  sub 
ject  so  engrossing  to  both  of  them. 

"  It  was  wonderful  the  way  that  boy  got  along ! 
Smart? — why,  smart  ain't  in  it  with  him!  Course, 
his  uncle  gave  him  a  good  start,  but  then  he  up  an' 
died  before  so  long,  and  his  father  was  worse'n  a 
hindrance,  although  Davie  does  claim  as  he  got  his 
hard,  business-sense  from  his  Paw.  But  the  little 
chap  was  awful  knowin'  for  his  years,  and  didn't 
waste  nothin'  in  foolish  spendin'  neither,  as  some  o' 
your  smart  chaps  does :  he  had  a  bank  account  of  his 
own  when  most  kids  is  thinkin'  of  how  to  get  rid  o' 
their  earnin's.  He  was  free-handed,  too,  if  another 
feller  was  down  on  his  luck ;  got  that  from  his  Maw, 
I  guess.  He  wa'n't  scared  o'  nothin',  and  he  gathered 
up  stock  an'  sized  up  prices  quicker'n  winkin' ;  never 
see  sech  an  eye  for  stock  sence  I  was  born.  Lord  o' 
love,  but  he  was  quick  to  catch  on!  The  man  had 
to  rise  before  light  to  get  ahead  o'  David  Kingdon, 
and  that  before  he  was  full  grown.  Dick  was  along 
all  the  time  to  help  him,  and  Dick's  good  stuff,  but 
he  ain't  what  you'd  call  a  rusher,  when  all's  said. 
Once — he  wa'n't  more'n  sixteen  years  old — Davie 
come  in  my  house  long  about  dark,  and  '  Johnny,'  says 
he,  '  let  me  set  by  your  fire  awhile.'  Then  I  knew  as 


114        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

that  Paw  o'  his  was  makin'  hot  times  at  the  ranch; 
but  I  didn't  let  on — jes'  says,  'All  right,  sonny!' 
an5  kep'  right  along  cookin'  supper.  David  was 
always  notiony  about  keepin'  hisself  to  hisself." 

Mrs.  Johnson  at  this  point  met  Sylvia's  smile  of 
perfect  understanding. 

"Yes,  you  know  that  too!  Well,  so  I  let  him  set 
an'  study,  without  so  much  as  oncet  openin'  my  head. 
Then  he  lifts  his  face  sudden,  with  that  look  in  his 
eyes  that  ought  to  melt  a  heart  o'  stone — so  solemn 
and  tender — and  '  Johnny,'  says  he,  '  when  I'm  grown 
I'm  goin'  to  have  the  loveliest  wife ! '  '  That's  right, 
Davie,'  says  I,  without  so  much  as  crackin'  a  smile, 
'and  what'll  she  be  like?'  'Oh,'  says  he,  'she'll 
be  just  lovely!  We'll  have  the  sweetest  home — no 
fussin'  nor  abusin','  says  the  poor  boy.  '  Won't  you 
come  and  visit  us,  Johnny?'  What  did  I  say?  Why 
I  jes'  walked  right  up  to  him,  an'  took  a-holt  of  his 
head  between  my  hands,  and  kissed  him  square  on  the 
mouth — that's  what  I  did!  I  couldn't  say  nothin'; 
and  he  wa'n't  the  same  as  other  boys  about  dislikin' 
bein'  kissed,  if  he  had  a  likin'  for  a  person.  And  I 
always  was  'most  the  same  as  a  mother  to  Davie.  And 
then,  after  talkin'  that  way,  he  ups  and  marries  her!  " 

At  this  point  disgust,  supreme  and  unutterable, 
closed  temporarily  the  eloquent  lips  of  Johnny. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         115 

Then,  with  an  effort,  she  changed  the  subject — or,  to 
be  more  accurate,  made  a  feint  at  so  doing. 

"Well,  you  asked  me  oncet  about  my  ranch,  Mrs. 
Kingdon.  Well,  I  tell  you  as  I'm  doin'  fine !  I  had 
lots  o'  stuff  to  market  in  the  city,  an'  't'ain't  nothin' 
to  hitch  up  a  team  any  time  an'  pack  it  there — not 
more'n  sixty  mile.  Then  I  got  three  good  cows  for 
butter,  the  finest  bein'  Sonny.  The  boys  jes'  raised 
the  laugh  on  me  about  the  name !  'Twas  the  cow  as 

your  husband  give  me  when  I  stood  by  him "  She 

stopped  abruptly,  glancing  at  her  visitor. 

"When,  Mrs.  Johnson?"  put  in  Sylvia  encourag 
ingly.  "  Don't  be  uneasy.  I  know  everything." 

"Very  well,"  proceeded  the  older  woman,  with  a 
sigh  of  relief;  "  that's  all  right!  Well,  when  I  stood 
by  Mr.  Kingdon  as  one  friend  ought  to  stand  by 
another  in  his  day  of  affliction.  But  somehow  he's 
thought  even  more  of  his  old  Johnny,  since  then,  than 
he  did  before.  Oh,  Mrs.  Kingdon,  his  Paw  was  a  ter 
ror  ! "  she  broke  out  suddenly.  Then  stopped  again, 
arose,  and  walked  to  the  open  door.  She  stood  gaz 
ing  up  at  the  exquisite  sky,  as  if  there  she  saw  once 
more  the  scarcely  less  exquisite  face  of  the  boy  as  she 
had  first  beheld  it.  "  He  was  the  sweetest  young  one ! 
Not  a  child  either  exactly,  but  seemed  so  to  me.  I 
jes'  took  him  right  into  my  heart — so  pretty  an'  win- 


116        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

nin'  an'  lonesome  he  was  ! — so  hard  druv'  all  the  time, 
an'  no  thanks  for  it!  His  eyes  was  like  the  stars  of 
heaven — so  innocent  an'  shinin' !  They're  that,  now, 
oncet  in  a  while,  but  not  all  the  time.  And  then, 
when  he  was  grown,  and  got  so  awful  good-lookin', ' 
an'  all  the  girls  here  an'  in  the  cities  where  he  visited 
went  wild  over  him,  as  I've  heard — oh,  Mrs.  Kingdon, 
there  ain't  no  wrong  in  sayin'  as  his  Paw  should  have 
been  took  years  before  he  was !  The  old  man  got 
religion,  and  talked  the  croolest  talk  as  ever  was  con- 
cernin'  the  best  son  as  ever  a  bad  old  man  had.  And 
that  beast,  Berry!  Never  mind;  he's  above  ground, 
and  I'll  get  even  with  him  yet  for  the  wicked  lies  he 
set  a-goin'  about  my  Davie!  Why,  Mrs.  Kingdon," 
she  added  emphatically,  coming  back  into  the  room, 
her  fine  eyes  gleaming,  "  not  one  o'  them  tales  could  be 
true !  Davie  wa'n't  no  saint — he  was  too  highstrung 
— but  he  couldn't  do  a  bad  thing  if  he  tried  ever  so ! 
And  he  had  enough  worry  at  home  to  drive  any  other 
feller  with  as  much  spunk  as  him  to  the  devil.  But 
Davie  never  come  within  whisperin'  distance  o'  the 
devil !  /  know ;  I've  raised  sons  o'  my  own.  After  he 
got  married,  he  stopped  his  foolishness.  He  seemed 
awful  happy  at  first ;  yet  I  knew  when  I  laid  my  eyes 
on  her  as  it  wa'n't  a-goin'  to  do!  And  it  didn't  do. 
She  never  come  up  here.  I  see  her  in  the  city.  Well ! " 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         117 

Mrs.  Johnson  sighed,  then  smiled,  and,  falling  upon 
the  slight  form  of  her  visitor,  gathered  her  into  her 
large  embrace. 

"  I  know  as  you'll  be  good  to  him,  my  dearie ! "  she 
whispered  brokenly,  "  and  he  loves  you  as  it's  only  in 
Davie  to  love ! " 

After  this  outburst  Mrs.  Johnson  resumed  a  man 
ner  more  befitting  that  of  a  hostess  receiving  a  bride's 
first  call.  But  she  had  won  the  heart  of  the  second 
Mrs.  Kingdon. 

And  as  the  weeks  and  months  went  on,  a  tenderness 
for  her  husband,  separate  and  apart  from  the  passion 
of  love,  stole  into  Sylvia's  heart.  The  long-continued 
jar  of  mismating  could  not  fail,  in  the  case  of  a  man 
of  David's  peculiar  temperament,  to  leave  conse 
quences.  When  the  slip  into  the  short  speech  or  the 
sullen  brooding  befell,  or  that  worse  slip  from  his 
wife's  high  standards  to  those  lower  ones  which  his 
environment  had  formerly  assured  him  were  all-suffi 
cient,  his  remorse  proved  less  futile  than  most  repent 
ance  is.  Sylvia,  early  trained  in  patience,  had  the 
soft  answer  ready — not  the  meek,  adorning  softness 
of  the  historic  Griselda,  but  rather  that  which  bears 
in  its  bosom  a  reproachful  tolerance.  David  under 
stood,  and  loved  her  the  better  for  both  reproach  and 
tolerance. 


118        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Following  on  the  close  intimacy  of  a  harmonious 
marriage  came  the  slow  development  of  David's  real 
self.  He  had  from  the  first  realised  that  there  were 
certain  matters  in  which  his  wife  would  never  come 
down  to  him,  that  he  would  have  to  rise  to  her  level; 
and  it  was  becoming  daily  easier  for  him  to  do  this. 
Previously  bound  to  a  colder  nature,  he  had  allowed 
his  restless,  though  never  wholly  ungovernable,  im 
pulses  to  wander  away  with  him  in  a  manner  that 
belied  his  really  remarkable  capacity  for  self-govern 
ment.  Now  all  was  changed.  He  gathered  in  those 
wayward  moods  and  wandering  impulses,  and  laid 
them  at  the  feet  of  her  who  satisfied  alike  the  cravings 
of  his  heart  and  of  his  higher  nature,  moral  as  well  as 
intellectual.  Purpose  took  shape  in  him,  together 
with  a  secret  resolve  to  mould  his  life  rather  than  be 
moulded  by  it — a  secret  resolve,  so  far,  because 
actions  spoke  for  him  more  readily  than  words.  His 
mind,  always  vigorous,  grasped  abstract  subjects  in 
a  new  way — firmly,  clearly,  analytically. 

There  were  some  matters,  however,  that  David  con 
cealed  from  Sylvia — and  wisely.  He  took  infinite 
pains,  on  every  occasion,  to  make  light  of  the  Long 
Tom  affair  and  Sylvia's  share  in  it,  whereas  in  real 
truth  his  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating  whenever  he 
thought  of  her  in  connection  with  it;  and  more  than 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH         119 

once  she  wondered  why  he  would  unexpectedly  and 
without  due  cause,  as  she  considered,  catch  her  in  his 
arms  and  press  his  face  silently  and  passionately  to 
her  own.  Well  aware  as  he  was,  that  Berry  and  his 
following  were  protecting  the  murderer,  he  was 
equally  aware  that  Cristol,  like  a  sleuthhound,  never 
forsook  the  trail,  and  never  would  until  some  life  paid 
the  forfeit. 

The  incident  of  Tim's  murder  was  but  one  in  a 
long  succession  of  like  events  extending  over  a  period 
of  years.  The  cattle-feuds  of  New  Mexico  and 
Arizona — now  slowly  dying  a  natural  death,  owing 
not  so  much  to  an  advance  in  civilisation  as  to  a 
change  in  conditions — partook  of  the  character  of 
the  vendetta,  and  were  almost  as  relentless.  The  feud 
between  the  Kingdon  and  Berry  ranches,  fostered  as 
it  had  been  by  the  imbecility  of  "  Old  Man  Kingdon," 
of  which  Berry  had  not  been  slow  to  take  advantage, 
was  one  of  long  standing.  Sylvia  was  told  merely 
that  Long  Tom  had  escaped  for  the  time,  but  that 
he  would  probably  be  caught  eventually.  As  the 
instincts  of  love  are  stronger  than  spoken  facts, 
Sylvia  had  been  doing  some  meditation  and  observa 
tion  on  her  own  account. 

The  result  was  that  one  afternoon,  David  being 
down  at  Kingdon's  Crossing  on  business  regarding 


120        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

some  cattle,  she  mounted  her  horse  and  took  the  now 
well-known  way  to  the  Johnson  Ranch.  Not  a  soul 
was  to  be  seen  around  the  little  house.  Light  clouds 
were  scudding  across  the  azure  of  the  sky — a  paler 
azure  than  usual,  precursor  of  a  winter  gale — and 
puffs  of  penetrating  south  wind  found  their  way  into 
the  canon.  Sylvia  shivered  as  she  sat  on  her  horse. 
Presently,  however,  Mrs.  Johnson  came  hurrying  up 
from  the  stream,  upon  whose  borders  she  had  been 
superintending  the  labours  of  a  Mexican  ploughing 
for  winter  wheat.  Ted  and  Nino  appeared  cavorting 
around  another  corner,  and  warmth  and  cheer  came 
with  the  whole  family.  Sylvia  slipped  from  the 
saddle,  Ted  tied  the  Boy,  and  the  two  women  entered 
the  house,  glowing  with  the  afternoon  sun. 

"  I'm  uneasy,  Mrs.  Johnson,"  began  Sylvia  at  once,, 
"  about  my  husband." 

"  Set  down,"  rejoined  the  hostess,  her  face  harden 
ing  suddenly,  yet  mindful  of  David's  injunctions. 

"  I  know  I  can  trust  you,"  went  on  Sylvia, 
falteringly. 

"  Course  you  can  trust  me ;  I'm  one  o'  that  kind. 
Even  my  enemies — an'  I've  got  'em  all  right — can't 
say  as  I  ever  opened  my  head  when  I  hadn't  ought 
to." 

Then  Sylvia  poured  out  her  tale.     Mrs.  Johnson 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         121 

listened  with  a  curiously  hard  look  upon  her  rounded 
countenance.  She  knew  so  much — so  much  more  than 
this  inexperienced  girl ! 

"  He  asked  me  if  I  was  willing  to  stay  up  here  for 
some  time  yet,"  the  narration  concluded,  "and,  of 
course,  I'm  willing.  I  like  being  in  the  mountains 
much  better,  I  am  sure,  than  I  should  like  the  Cross 
ing.  It's  not  that;  I'm  uneasy  because  I  feel  sure 
there's  fresh  trouble  brewing." 

Johnny  considered  a  minute. 

"  What  makes  you  think  your  husband  would  not 
tell  you,  if  it  was  so  as  it  was  best  for  you  to  know?  " 

The  sharp  query  brought  the  colour  to  Sylvia's 
face. 

"  Simply  because  his  reason  is  that  he  is  afraid  of 
frightening  me,"  she  answered,  quietly;  "and  that 
reason  does  not  count  with  me." 

Mrs.  Johnson  considered  again.  She  was  in  some 
thing  of  a  dilemma. 

"  Well,  you  see,  my  dear,  he  don't  know  nothin' — 
I  mean  nothin'  to  amount  to  anythin'.  He  don't 
want  to  git  you  all  worked  up  over  some  foolishness 
that  maybe  '11  fizzle  out  to  nothin'.  Him  and  Cris- 
tol's  jes'  nosin'  'round,  that's  all.  It's  best  for  Davie 
to  stay  here  awhile,  till  things  gits  sorter  settled.  I 
wouldn't  go  for  to  worry  if  I  was  you:  it  never  did 


122         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

no  good  yet.  He'll  tell  you  jes'  as  soon  as  you  can 
help  him.  That's  Davie !  He  never  was  a  great  one 
to  talk." 

"  No,  I  know.  But  he  talks  quite  a  good  deal  now 
about  his  business  to  me,"  rejoined  Sylvia,  smiling; 
"  so  that  won't  do,  dear  Johnny.  Think  of  something 
else!" 

Johnny  cast  her  eyes  around  the  mountain-tops, 
searching  for  inspiration.  Finally  she  gave  it  up. 

"My  dear,"  she  said,  impressively,  "I  won't  deny 
as  there's  trouble ;  there  mostly  is.  But  it  won't  do 
no  good  to  run  around  a-huntin'  of  it  up.  David 
can't  tell  you  till  he's  got  scent  of  it  himself;  he's 
jes'  suspicionin'  now,  that's  all.  You  know  as  that 
old  beast  Berry's  layin'  to  run  for  sheriff  next  term  ?  " 
Sylvia  nodded.  "  Well,  mark  my  words,  the  fight'll 
be  then — not  yet.  See  ?  " 

And  so  upon  another  tack  the  shrewd  Johnny 
gently  led  her  inquiring  guest,  until,  "  Oh,  you  bad, 
bad  boy!"  she  suddenly  interrupted  herself  to 
exclaim. 

"Don't  scold  the  little  fellow,  Maw!"  cried  Teddy, 
bursting  in  on  the  heels  of  Nino,  who  with  head  in  air 
and  tail  curled  tightly  over  his  back  was  whirling 
around  the  room  as  rapidly  as  the  convoying  of  one 
of  his  mistress's  largest  slippers  would  permit.  "  He 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         123 

don't  mean  no  harm,  and  he  is  bavin'  sech  an  awful 
good  time ! " 

"  Nino,  come  here ! " 

Nino  dropped  the  slipper  promptly,  tail  and  ears 
and  every  hair  of  him  suddenly  unstarched,  and  crept 
to  his  mistress's  knee.  Then,  curling  an  insinuating 
rose-pink  tongue  over  a  black  nose,  and  rolling  over 
on  his  back,  he  elevated  one  small  and  deprecating 
hind  foot.  Evidently  from  Nino's  point  of  view 
apology  could  go  no  further.  Mrs.  Johnson,  who 
had  just  been  fulminating  wrathful  invectives  of  a 
murderous  description  against  Berry  and  his  clan, 
smiled  indulgently  down  upon  the  tiny  sinner.  In  an 
instant  he  was  upon  her  knee  and  climbing  to  her 
neck,  where  he  laid  down  his  head  with  a  sigh  of 
renewed  confidence  and  content. 

"  Now,  who  could  be  hard  on  the  helpless  dumb 
things,  Mrs.  Kingdon?"  said  Johnny,  pressing  the 
silken  head  to  her  as  if  it  was  that  of  a  child — only 
with  a  difference. 

Yet  there  is  a  sufficiency  of  dull  persons  in  the 
world  who  never  would  have  observed  that  difference. 

The  women,  in  entire  sympathy,  sat  silent  for  a 
while. 

"  My  dear,  we  who's  left  here  without  no  home-man 


124        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

around  has  got  to  look  out  for  ourselves ;  the  outside 
men  don't  jump  up  to  help  us  every  pop,  same  as  they 
do  East.  My  boys  was  babies  when  Johnson  was 
took,  and  I  soon  got  so  I  could  pull  a  gun  's  quick 
as  the  other  feller;  and  bein'  always  rugged,  I  was 
strong  to  work  till  the  chaps  got  so  they  could  take 
aholt.  But  I  do  feel's  I'd  like  you  to  know  that  I 
ain't  no  ways  mean,  even  if  my  tongue  is  sharp  and 
I've  had  to  learn  to  do  my  fightin'  myself."  Here 
the  two  women  exchanged  a  smile  of  affectionate 
understanding.  "I  was  raised  a  member  of  the 
'Pis copal  Church,  but  I  ain't  so  awful  perticular 
about  denominations.  A  good  man's  a  good  man  to 

me,    every    time.      But    that    Atherton "      She 

paused  expressively.  "Well,  we  has  our  preachers 
up  here  oncet  in  a  while,  but  it's  either  Atherton  or 
Methodist  revivalers,  and  I  never  was  stuck  on  re 
vivals.  Now  I  don't  know  how  you  feels  about  it, 
Mrs.  Kingdon,"  she  continued,  turning  her  fine  eyes, 
liquid  with  reverential  emotion,  upon  her  new  friend, 
"  but  there's  no  Sunday  when  the  wind  don't  blow  as  I 
don't  climb  on  top  o'  the  mountain,  and  set  there  all 
by  myself,  unless  it's  for  Ted,  and  look  around  on  all 
the  beautiful  works  of  God— as  I  don't  feel  that  I'm 
doin'  as  much  prayin',  and  givin'  ear  to  as  much 
preachin',  as  there's  necessity  for.  When  I  stoops 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         125 

down  to  a  flower,  and  it  peeks  up  at  me  with  its  pure, 
innocent  eye,  I  love  it  and  the  good  God  as  set  it  in  the 
lovely  air  and  sunshine  and  had  it  to  grow  so  pretty. 
'Thank  God!'  says  I.  And  that's  my  Sunday 
preachin',  Mrs.  Kingdon.  It's  done  me  a  heap  o' 
good  in  my  bad  spells.  Soon  's  my  children  got  so 
they  could  notice,  I  commenced  carryin'  them  up 
on  the  mountain,  and  they've  grown  up  lovin'  all  live 
things  and  things  as  can  feel  and  all  that's  beautiful, 
because  God  made  'em;  and  my  great  rough  boys  is 
gentler  than  the  most  of  women  when  they  handles 
a  flower  or  a  plant  or  a  helpless  dumb  beast.  I  raised 
'em  so,  Mrs.  Kingdon.  It  was  the  best  I  could  do  for 
'em.  And  they're  good  men,  Mrs.  Kingdon — the  two 
as  is  away  from  me  in  St.  Louis — makin'  a  good  livin', 
and  livin'  steady  and  pleadin'  all  the  time  with  their 
mother  to  come  an'  make  her  home  with  one  o'  them. 
But — Lord  o'  love ! — how  could  I  live  even  on  a  son 
till  so  be  as  I  get  too  old  to  work?  And  then  there's 
Teddy  to  raise,  as  is  still  a  chap;  and,  please  God, 
he'll  do  well,  too,  and  grow  to  be  a  good  man!  And 
there's  the  blue  sky  and  the  mountains  and  my  speci 
mens — how  could  I,  Mrs.  Kingdon?" 

There  was  an  appeal  in  the  voice,  usually  so 
resolute  and  on  occasion  so  combative.  Sylvia  laid 
her  white  hand  on  the  brown  one  nearest  to  her,  and 


126        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

answered  nothing.  But  Johnny  understood.  And 
because  she  understood,  her  big  heart  went  out  to  this 
woman  of  another  breed  and  rearing,  as  in  all  its 
large  and  various  outgoings  it  never  had  gone  out 
before. 

Sylvia  went  home  comforted  and  cheered — she 
could  hardly  have  told  why.  She  pondered  over 
many  things  that  Mrs.  Johnson  had  said.  She  took 
a  leaf,  too,  from  the  good  woman's  book  of  life,  and 
enlarged  it.  Curiosity  and  admiration — the  latter 
somewhat  critical  at  first,  but  gradually  warming  to 
a  passionate  adoration — combined  to  attract  to  her 
the  wild  mountain  children.  Sunday  after  Sunday, 
interrupted  only  by  rare  intervals  of  bad  weather, 
found  her  scaling  the  mountains,  surrounded  by  a 
shouting,  joyous  throng.  Up  there  was  her  Sun 
day-school,  and  there  the  shouting  ceased  and  rapt 
interest  took  its  place.  No  orthodox  Sunday-school 
books  or  papers  directed  these  lessdns;  nevertheless, 
seed  by  seed,  truth  was  dropped  into  those  untutored 
minds,  to  bear  fruit  in  years  to  come.  What  "  she  " 
said  soon  came  to  have  portentous  weight  in  fam 
ily  circles,  especially  if  they  contained  growing 
boys. 

David,  watching  the  scene  from  below  and  recall 
ing  the  Sylvia  of  old,  wondered  more  and  more.  Her 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         127 

adaptiveness  to  her  novel  surroundings  continued  to 
be  a  source  of  surprised  delight  to  him.  He  knew 
that  every  detail  of  his  affairs  interested  her,  and 
marvelled  as  much  at  his  own  growing  communica 
tiveness  as  he  did  at  her  supreme  content.  And  Sylvia 
was  perfectly  content,  except  for  the  vague  fears  she 
had  confided  to  Mrs.  Johnson.  Of  her  former  life 
she  missed  nothing.  Had  she  thought  she  was  to  live 
forever  removed  from  the  big  stirring  world,  it  might 
have  been  otherwise,  but  there  was  no  "  forever  "  about 
it.  She  and  David  could  go  East  as  often  as  they 
desired — or,  at  least,  as  often  as  his  business  per 
mitted,  and  as  soon  as  the  keen  edge  had  worn  away 
from  Mrs.  Newman's  disappointment. 

Their  world  had  not  forgotten  them.  David  was 
the  kind  of  person  whose  men-friends  like  to  show  their 
affection  by  writing  casual  notes  at  decent  intervals, 
beginning  "  Dear  old  man,"  and  ending  "  Yours 
ever."  Buckley  was  resolutely  determined  to  keep 
in  touch,  and  Mrs.  De  Lancey  wrote  Sylvia  all  the 
news  of  the  town. 

Thus  the  Christmas  season  passed,  and  the  New 
Year  began  to  unfold  its  unknown  stores. 

"  Sylvia,"  David  said  one  night,  "  I  want  to  go  on 
working  until  I've  made  enough  to  be  absolutely  inde 
pendent,  to  choose  my  own  career,  and  you  know  that 


128        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

takes  a  pile  of  gold  at  my  age.  Don't  laugh,  you 
bad  woman!" 

But  Sylvia  was  not  laughing. 

"Now  you've  come  into  my  life,  I  feel  more  than 
ever  as  if  I  might  amount  to  something.  And  I  will, 
too — you  see  if  I  won't!  I'm  not  going  to  live  in 
idleness,  Sylvia!" 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  looking  down  upon  her,  all 
his  keen  vitality  in  his  face. 

"Idleness?  No!"  responded  Sylvia,  with  fine 
scorn.  "  But  I've  a  career  all  marked  out  for  you 
already,"  nodding  her  head  sagely.  "  Just  wait 
awhile,  until  you're  tired  of  your  old  cows,  and  then 
I'll  tell  you  what  it  is." 

"You  will,  will  you?"  he  retorted,  teasingly,  slip 
ping  to  the  floor  at  her  knee.  Then,  with  one  of  his 
abrupt  transitions : 

"  Sylvia,  do  you  remember  that  I  was  at  your  feet 
once  before,  like  this,  and  you  thrust  me  from 
you?" 

His  arm  was  around  her  waist,  and  he  was  kissing 
the  hands  in  her  lap. 

"  Not  quite  like  this,  David ;  and  I  never  thrust  you 
from  me!"  she  rejoined,  blushing  and  laughing,  but 
laying  her  cheek  on  the  soft  brown  head.  Then, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation — for  Sylvia  was  not  over- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         129 

lavish  of  caresses,  always  seeming  to  hold  something 
in  reserve — she  drew  that  head  into  her  arms. 

He  rested  thus,  very  still,  his  bright  eyes  growing 
larger  and  deeper  in  the  firelight. 

"  It  is  the  gift  of  God ! "  he  murmured,  at  last. 

"What  is,  Davie?" 

There  was  no  reply;  but  Sylvia  understood. 


CHAPTER  XI 

I    DON'T  see  how  I  can  leave  these  men  to-day ! " 
With  one  hand  David  shuffled  the  morning's 
mail  upon  his  desk,  whilst  with  the  other  he 
ruffled  his  hair.     Then,  following  a  now  established 
habit,  his  perplexed  eyes  sought  those  of  his  wife. 

She  did  not  reply  with  her  usual  alacrity,  and  his 
look  of  appeal  turned  to  one  of  solicitude. 

"You  are  pale,  sweetest!"  he  exclaimed,  revolving 
in  his  desk  chair  the  better  to  observe  her.  "  I  was  a 
selfish  brute  to  keep  you  here  all  summer,  instead  of 
packing  you  off  to  the  California  coast.  And  after 
all,  I've  been  obliged  to  be  away  so  much  myself,  these 
last  three  months,  that  I  might  have  found  the  grit 
to  face  a  few  lonely  home-comings.  I  got  back  only 
last  night,  and  here  I  am  called  to  Correone  again ! " 

"  I  have  not  felt  the  heat.  It  has  been  nothing  to 
what  I  have  experienced  in  the  East,"  replied  Sylvia, 
leaning  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Well,  sit  down  then  " — drawing  her  to  his  knee — 
"  and  let's  see  what's  to  be  done  about  this  confounded 
mail." 

130 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         131 

It  was  late  summer-time  at  the  River  Ranch,  of 
which  Sylvia  had  that  season  been,  on  various 
occasions,  the  interested  and  successful  "  boss."  The 
sky,  of  a  less  intense  blue  than  in  the  cooler  months, 
spread  unflecked  to  the  mountains,  upon  whose  loftiest 
summits  rested  a  fair,  light  cloud,  apparently  no 
bigger  than  a  man's  hand.  It  was  the  finishing  touch 
of  loveliness  to  the  exquisite  picture,  but  nevertheless 
was  the  innocent  cause  of  the  busy  scene  in  the  green 
meadows  below  the  house,  where  men,  horses,  and 
wagons  were  hastily  gathering  the  third  crop  of 
alfalfa,  whose  growth  and  ripening  had  been  of  such 
absorbing  interest  to  the  "  new  boss."  In  the  peach- 
orchards,  too,  men  were  at  work,  filling  baskets  and 
boxes  with  the  magnificent  fruit  peculiar  to  that  sec 
tion,  to  be  shipped  to  more  or  less  distant  markets. 

"  Well,  it's  settled,  then ;  and  I  may  go  instead  of 
you  ?  "  questioned  Sylvia,  with  an  air  of  finality. 

"  If  you  are  sure  you  feel  well  enough,"  he  replied, 
doubtfully. 

"I'm  well,"  laughed  Sylvia;  "and — oh,  you  don't 
know  how  badly  I  want  to  see  store  windows  again ! " 
she  cried,  squeezing  him  around  the  neck,  and  then 
running  away  to  make  her  few  preparations. 

David's  business  and  Sylvia's  shopping  were  com- 


132         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

pleted,  and  she  was  upon  her  homeward  way.  Even 
ing  was  drawing  her  softening  veil  over  the  glittering 
expanse  of  desert,  upon  whose  circling  edge  the  far 
peaks  still  shone.  Beyond  that  jewelled  distance  lay 
home.  The  sweet  air,  cooled  by  the  storm,  blew  in 
softly  at  the  open  window ;  the  dust  had  been  laid  by 
the  heavy  rain  of  the  night.  Sylvia  was  very  tired, 
yet  never  had  she  felt  more  completely  at  peace.  A 
smile  illumined  her  face  now  and  again  when  she 
thought  of  David,  and  what  she  had  made  up  her 
mind  to  tell  him  when  they  met. 

Notwithstanding  the  smile,  however,  the  weariness 
behind  it  was  sufficiently  marked  to  cause  the  con 
ductor,  advancing  down  the  aisle  toward  her,  to  hesi 
tate  before  delivering  the  message  with  which  he  was 
commissioned.  But  as  he  hesitated,  she  chanced  to 
look  up,  and  he  immediately  stepped  to  her  side. 

"  Pardon  me  for  disturbing  you,  madam,"  he  said ; 
"but  there's  a  sick  lady  in  the  drawing-room  who's 
set  on  having  you  go  in  to  see  her.  She  asked  me  to 
say  to  you  that  she'd  consider  it  a  great  favour  if  you 
would.  I  think  myself  that  she's  kind  of  hysterical, 
but  she  believes  she's  real  sick.  Her  maid's  about 
wore  out." 

"  Why  certainly  I'll  go,  if  it  will  help  her,"  replied 
Sylvia;  adding,  as  she  preceded  the  conductor  down 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         133 

the  aisle,  "Is  she  the  lady  who  boarded  the  train  at 
Correone,  and  felt  faint  ?  I  loaned  the  maid  my 
vinaigrette." 

"  That's  the  one.  She  stopped  off  at  Correone  from 
the  Limited." 

A  jaded  French  maid  responded  to  the  knock  on  the 
door,  her  eyes  brightening  as  they  fell  on  the  madame 
of  so  distinguished  an  appearance. 

Sylvia  perceived  at  once  that  the  maid  was  more  in 
need  of  assistance  than  the  mistress.  Therefore,  as 
soon  as  the  apologies,  demurs,  and  explanations  incum 
bent  on  the  occasion  were  exhausted,  she  suggested  that 
the  maid  get  her  berth  made  up  and  lie  down  for  an 
hour  or  so,  and  she  would  remain  with  the  mistress. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  incident  of  the  stranger's 
spell  of  faintness  upon  first  boarding  the  train,  Sylvia 
would  not  have  observed  her;  for  while  good-looking, 
she  was  of  an  extremely  ordinary  type.  There  was 
nothing  either  noble,  spiritual,  or  intellectual  in  the 
countenance.  In  old  age  it  would  be  distinguished  by 
its  least  beautiful  features,  being  devoid  of  that  dis 
tinction  which  lends  dignity  to  age.  Nevertheless, 
the  woman  was  handsome,  notwithstanding  tem 
porary  pallor  and  faintness.  She  had  either  a  well- 
developed  or  well-tailored  figure,  the  result  being  the 
same  in  both  cases.  She  was  stylishly  clothed,  and 


134        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

knew  how  to  wear  her  clothes.  Her  hair  was  of  the 
usual  brown,  her  skin  moderately  fair,  her  eyes  of  no 
particular  shape  nor  colour,  but  almost  insolently 
unabashed  in  expression.  Nicely  curved,  self-compla 
cent  lips  folded  into  a  wide  mouth.  The  whole  effect 
was  frankly  egotistic  and  commonplace. 

"  Madame  has  not  the  bel  air  of  the  other  madame," 
had  been  the  prompt  criticism  of  the  travelled  French 
woman. 

The  conductor  had  been  correct  in  his  surmise  that 
the  lady  was  more  tired  and  hysterical  than  ill, 
although  she  certainly  did  not  look  well.  She  soon 
arrived  at  the  loquacious  stage,  which  for  one  of  her 
temperament  is  an  efficacious  medicine  for  the  nerves. 
She  burst  into  a  flow  of  talk  as  soon  as  her  new 
acquaintance  had  settled  the  pillows  of  the  lounge 
more  comfortably  behind  her  head. 

"  I'm  all  unnerved,  I  know !  I've  been  through 
everything  this  last  year  or  two !  And  my  physician 
in  the  middle  West,  where  my  home  used  to  be,  says  I 
show  symptoms  of  lung  trouble,  and  told  me  to  lose  no 
time  in  coming  West.  I'm  going  to  join  my  husband, 
whom  I've  not  seen  in  the  longest  while ! " 

Sylvia  murmured  expressions  of  sympathy,  adding, 
"  I  think  you  ought  to  have  some  refreshment.  Did 
you  go  out  to  supper  this  evening  ?  " 


THE    HUMAN    TOUCH         135 

"  No,  but  Justine  brought  me  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a 
chicken  sandwich;  and  I  never  stir  without  malted 
milk  and  a  spirit  lamp.  My  physician  is  very  par 
ticular  about  my  nourishment." 

Sylvia  had  travelled  sufficiently  to  be  aware,  by  this 
time,  that  she  was  doomed  to  be  the  recipient  of  one  of 
those  remarkable  confidences  which  some  women  are 
addicted  to  making  on  trains,  to  complete  strangers. 

"  I  took  a  fancy  to  you  directly  I  saw  you — I  don't 
know  why.  And  I  felt  if  I  were  to  get  to  feeling  very 
badly,  I'd  like  to  have  you  come,  because,  if  you  were 
to  sit  by  me  awhile,  I'd  get  over  my  spell.  I'm  better 
already.  I  always  was  very  quick  at  sizing  up  people. 
Justine's  so  stupid;  she  got  me  all  worked  up.  But 
I'm  sure  you've  done  a  great  deal  of  nursing,  haven't 
you?" 

Sylvia  shook  her  head,  smiling. 

"  You  haven't  ?  Well,  I  am  surprised !  You  must 
take  to  it  naturally.  As  I  told  you,  I've  been  through 
everything.  You'd  never  guess  what  a  good  figure  I 
used  to  have!  If  it  wasn't  for  this  lung  trouble,  of 
course  I  should  have  nervous  prostration.  Every  one 
does,  now,  who  has  trouble;  and  I've  had  so  much! 
I  was  on  the  verge  of  it  when  I  went  to  Europe." 

"  Tell  me  about  it,"  said  Sylvia  kindly.  "  Perhaps 
it  would  help  you  to  go  to  sleep  afterward." 


136        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"You're  awfully  good!  Do  you  live  in  this  sec 
tion  ?  You're  from  the  East,  I'm  sure." 

"  Yes,  I  came  from  the  East,  but  my  home  is  here 
now.  I've  been  up  the  road  attending  to  a  matter  of 
business  for  my  husband,  and  doing  some  shopping  on 
my  own  account,  too." 

Perceiving  that  the  invalid  was  interested  in  the 
trifling  narration,  Sylvia  talked  on. 

"I  must  change  cars  to-morrow  morning  very 
early,  at  Mendoza  City,  and  go  up  another  road  to  a 
little  country  depot,  where  my  husband  will  meet  me. 
Then  I  shall  have  five  miles  to  drive.  He  wired  me 
this  afternoon  to  Correone,  to  inquire  how  I  was  get 
ting  along." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  he  drove  ten  miles 
just  to  ask  how  you  were  getting  along?" 

"You  see,"  said  Sylvia,  apologetically,  "we  have 
not  been  married  quite  a  year,  and  I  have  never  been 
away  before." 

"My!     What  is  your  husband,  anyway?" 

"He  is  in  the  cattle  business." 

"So  is  mine.  How  odd!"  she  prattled  on.  "I 
don't  know  but  you  may  have  heard  of  him,  though  I 
don't  care  to  call  any  names  until  we're  together  again ; 
then  I  hope  you  and  I  will  get  real  intimate.  Oh, 
I've  had  the  most  romantic  experiences !  It's  a  wonder 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         187 

I'm  alive  to  tell  them!  My  husband's  one  of  the 
biggest  cattle-men  in  this  whole  section;  has  three 
places.  While  I  was  in  Europe  he  went  to  New  York 
City,  and  stayed  ever  so  long,  mixing  in  the  best 
circles.  He's  awfully  stylish  and  good-looking.  I 
used  to  be  awfully  proud  of  him  when  we  were  first 
married.  I  never  did  care  for  New  York;  I  always 
preferred  my  native  city,  Jonesville.  But  I  might 
like  it  better  now  he's  got  into  the  exclusive  set  there. 
But  he's  got  some  of  the  queerest  notions,  and  says 
as  long  as  he's  got  a  business  he's  going  to  attend  to 
it  right.  So  when  I  feel  like  dropping  everything 
and  going  away  to  have  a  good  time,  he  says  he's  too 
busy,  that  he'll  take  me  later.  This  doesn't — didn't 
suit  me,  so  I  got  to  going  by  myself,  and  staying  too 
long,  I  guess.  I  know  now  I  did  wrong  to  leave  him 
so  much  alone,  but  I  was  simply  obliged  to  have  the 
society  I'd  been  used  to.  I  hate  country  life!  My 
husband,  he  got  so  he  couldn't  abide  Jonesville.  He 
used  to  like  it  when  he  was  a  bachelor  and  had  business 

there.     But  now I'm  sure  you're  all  tired  out. 

Yet  I'd  love  to  tell  you  my  experiences.  I  feel  drawn 
to  you,  somehow." 

alt's  early  yet,"  said  Sylvia;  "I  shall  be  glad  to 
hear  your  story,  and  I  think  you  will  sleep  better 
when  it's  off  your  mind." 


138         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"Thank  you  so  much!  Yet  I  guess  when  I  get 
started  you'll  find  out  who  I  am.  Never  mind;  I 
don't  care  if  you  do !  I'm  sure  I  can  trust  you." 

"You  can." 

"  Well,  as  I  told  you,  I'd  been  in  Europe,  but  I  got 
tired  there,  and  commenced  to  think  that  I  hadn't 
treated  my  husband  just  right,  after  all,  and  I 
wrote  him  that  I  was  coming  back  to  do  better  by 
him." 

Then  she  told  her  companion  how  she  had  been 
wrecked  in  a  small,  unseaworthy  steamer  on  her  way 
to  join  the  Atlantic  liner  at  Genoa.  She  had  been 
picked  up  by  a  French  fishing-smack,  on  board  of 
which,  by  a  fortunate  chance,  was  the  wife  of  the 
skipper.  The  narrator's  maid  was  drowned. 

"  Poor  Marie !  And  I'd  given  her  one  of  my  most 
stylish  travelling  costumes  only  the  day  before!  I'd 
got  tired  to  death  of  it ! " 

In  a  delirium  she  herself  was  put  ashore  in  an 
obscure  fishing  port  on  the  south  coast  of  France,  a 
few  miles  from  which  was  a  convent  and  Sisters' 
hospital.  Anxious  to  get  rid  of  so  sick  a  woman,  her 
rescuers  hurried  her  across  country  in  a  cart,  and 
deposited  her  with  the  Sisters. 

Sewed  to  her  underclothing  was  an  oilskin  bag, 
containing  a  large  sum  of  money  in  gold,  and  French 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         139 

and  Italian  notes ;  also  two  or  three  valuable  diamond 
rings. 

"I  never  would  have  anything  to  do  with  letters 
of  credit  and  troublesome  business  papers,"  she  inter 
jected.  "  I  hate  business,  and  never  could  under 
stand  it." 

The  good  Sisters  remunerated  the  fisher  folk  with 
some  of  their  patient's  money,  locking  the  remainder 
carefully  away  to  await  the  restoration  of  its  owner's 
reason. 

The  lady  had  a  long  spell  of  delirium  and  fever, 
and,  when  bodily  health  was  finally  regained,  it  was 
found  that  her  mind  was  a  complete  blank  as  to 
the  past.  Means  of  identification  there  were  none. 
When,  at  length,  the  Sisters  found  an  opportunity  to 
send  two  of  their  number  to  report  the  matter  to  the 
American  consul  at  Marseilles,  they  encountered  a 
new  arrival,  a  rather  raw  importation  from  a  "  down 
East "  State,  unacquainted  with  a  word  of  the  French 
language.  He  was  at  once  overwhelmed  with  a  sense 
of  his  own  importance  and  his  alarming  ignorance  of 
his  new  duties.  This  gentleman  had  not  heard  of  the 
disappearance  of  any  American  or  English  lady,  and 
dismissed  his  visitors  rather  summarily. 

Thus  the  matter  rested.  The  Sisters,  accustomed 
to  exercising  patience,  calmly  waited.  Meanwhile, 


140        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

their  charge,  while  still  showing  the  effects  of  expo 
sure,  was  strong  enough  to  take  up  some  of  the  lighter 
duties  in  the  building,  displaying  in  their  accomplish 
ment  sufficient  aptitude  to  prove  that,  at  some  time 
before,  she  had  performed  similar  ones.  She  had 
simply  reverted  to  the  habits  of  youth,  and  the  inter 
vening  years  of  luxury  and  ease  were  wiped  out  of  her 
consciousness. 

Her  mind  was,  however,  slowly  preparing  itself  for 
a  change.  Flashes  of  memory,  so  transitory  as  to 
elude  her  grasp,  came  to  her  from  time  to  time.  One 
day  the  hospital  was  visited  by  some  American  tourists. 
Among  them  were  two  ladies  who,  while  strangers  to 
her,  were  from  her  own  State.  They  dropped  some 
remarks  which  awoke  long-silent  echoes  in  the  lost 
woman's  mind.  The  effect  was  that  of  a  cloudy  dawn 
and  the  slow  rising  of  a  tardy  sun.  The  first  keen 
emotion  of  which  she  was  conscious  was  indignation — 
indignation  that  neither  husband  nor  family  should 
have  exerted  themselves  to  find  her.  By  the  following 
day  she  was  able  to  interrogate  the  Sisters,  and  to 
give  a  clear  account  of  herself.  They  told  her  of  their 
fruitless  visit  to  Marseilles,  and  produced  the  oilskin 
bag. 

Pressing  upon  the  Sisters  as  much  cash  as  she  could 
spare,  for  the  benefit  of  their  hospital,  she  announced 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        141 

her  intention  of  starting  at  once  for  her  own  country, 
begging  her  kind  friends  to  maintain  silence  respect 
ing  her  movements  until  they  should  receive  a  letter 
from  her.  Her  most  valuable  jewels  and  trinkets  had 
been  left  for  safe  keeping  in  a  bank  in  Paris,  but  she 
rightly  judged  that  her  husband  would  have  removed 
them  long  ere  this;  and,  moreover,  she  could  not  go 
to  the  bank  without  disclosing  her  identity.  Should 
she  run  short  of  funds,  the  diamonds  in  her  bag  could 
be  sold. 

When  she  came  to  her  native  city  her  indignation, 
which  had  begun  to  die  away,  received  fresh  stimulus 
at  finding  herself  a  feature  of  the  past.  Her  mother 
and  only  unmarried  sister,  who  had  recently  inherited 
a  moderate  legacy,  had  abandoned  all  evidences  of 
mourning.  When  the  wanderer,  tearful  and  ex 
hausted,  arrived  upon  the  scene,  they  were  setting  off 
for  a  reception.  They  were  inclined,  at  first,  to 
question  her  identity.  A  scene  ensued,  in  the  midst 
of  which  the  central  figure  somewhat  conveniently 
fainted. 

"  Madame  is  ill — mats  vralment  malade!  "  explained 
the  French  maid  soberly,  laying  her  hand  where  she 
supposed  Madame's  lungs  to  be. 

The  invalid  revived,  coughing  and  weeping  and 
calling  upon  her  husband,  who,  she  now  learned,  had 


142        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

made  exhaustive  search  for  her  along  the  Italian 
coast,  to  be  rewarded  by  finding  what  was  believed  to 
be  her  dead  body.  Since  the  interment  of  this  body — 
that  of  the  maid  Marie — and  the  solemn  ceremony  of 
the  funeral,  her  husband  had  ceased  all  communica 
tion  with  the  family,  but  they  presumed  he  could 
readily  be  found. 

The  resurrected  wife,  however,  would  not  hear  of 
their  telegraphing  him.  No  one,  not  a  living  soul, 
should  know  that  she  was  alive  until  she  had  met 
her  husband  face  to  face.  And  she  was  resolved  not 
to  meet  him  until  accomplished  artistes  had  repaired 
some  of  the  ravages  made  in  her  appearance.  But 
stronger  even  than  vanity  was  fear  regarding  her 
physical  condition,  concerning  which  a  specialist  was 
to  be  consulted.  Her  mother  was  requested  to  advance 
the  funds  necessary  for  the  invalid  to  go  to  St.  Louis, 
where  she  expected  to  "lie  low"  until  she  could 
consummate  her  plans  for  a  meeting  with  her  hus 
band. 

"  Suppose  he  is  married  again,"  the  sister  had 
suggested,  a  trifle  maliciously.  "  Then  you'll  be  in  a 
nice  fix!"  But  the  idea  had  been  scouted  with 
meritorious  scorn. 

The  weather  became  atrocious,  and  the  sojourn  in 
St.  Louis  wac  responsible  for  another  real  illness. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         143 

Upon  her  recovery,  the  specialist  attending  her  learned 
of,  and  endorsed,  her  intention  to  go  to  New  Mexico, 
appending  advice  of  the  unpractical  kind  usually 
furnished  by  Eastern  physicians,  whose  knowledge  of 
the  climate  of  New  Mexico  does  not  even  embrace  the 
fact  that  the  summer  is  its  rainy  season. 

"  And  now  I'm  here,"  concluded  the  invalid,  "  I've 
come  to  get  well,  and  be  a  good  girl  and  stay  with  my 
husband.  He  was  real  good  to  me,  and  I  know  I 
didn't  treat  him  right.  Of  course  he  wasn't  a  saint — 
you  can't  expect  husbands  to  be  that — but  he  did 
the  best  by  me  he  knew  how,  and  it  will  be  good  to  see 
his  bonny  face  again,  and  have  him  take  care  of  me 
and  save  me  all  worry,  as  he  used  to."  The  speaker 
pressed  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"  I'll  remain  in  Mendoza  City  a  few  days,  and  get 
rested  up  so  as  I'll  look  and  feel  better.  I  never  did 
stop  over  there  but  once  for  a  night,  and,  if  I  stay  in 
my  room  at  the  hotel  and  register  under  another  name, 
no  one  will  find  me  out  till  I  get  ready.  But  I'm 

imposing   on   you,   Mrs. '       She   paused   for '  a 

name,  but  none  was  supplied. 

After  a  minute  her  listener  spoke.  "  Not  at  all.  I 
have  been  deeply  interested." 

"I  feel  so  much  better,"  resumed  her  companion, 
with  a  yawn,  "  thanks  to  you.  I  do  believe  I  could  go 


144        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

to  sleep.  You've  done  me  a  lot  of  good,  and  I'm  more 
than  grateful  to  you.  But  ring  for  the  porter  now, 
and  have  him  send  Justine  to  me." 

"Are  you  going  to  have  your  berth  made  up?" 
inquired  Sylvia,  in  a  strange,  toneless  voice. 

"No,"  replied  the  invalid,  observing  nothing. 
"  I'm  quite  comfortable  here." 

"  Well,  then,  I  shall  stay  until  you  are  asleep.  I'm 
not  sleepy,  and  Justine  seemed  very  tired." 

There  was  a  murmur,  another  yawn,  and  the  matter 
had  arranged  itself. 

To  go  to  a  berth  ?  To  lie  down  in  the  dark  behind 
drawn  curtains?  God  help  her — no! 

She  moved  to  the  seat  beside  the  window,  and,  draw 
ing  up  the  sash,  leaned  her  face  against  the  cold  pane. 
With  eyes  that  saw  only  the  face  of  David,  who  loved 
her,  and  her  alone,  she  gazed  across  the  solemn,  moon 
lit  stretches  of  the  desert.  Her  mind  was  a  blank, 
except  for  a  slowly  growing  consciousness  of  mortal 
hurt. 

Then  her  mind  began  to  stir,  like  a  tired  sleeper 
aroused  too  soon. 

She  stood  up  and  leaned  over  the  lounge. 

Clairette  had  dropped  into  one  of  those  heavy 
slumbers  in  which  persons  of  her  temperament  win 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         145 

relief  from  all  malaise,  whether  of  mind  or  body.  As 
Sylvia  bent  her  delicate,  clearly  cut  face  over  the  more 
bluntly  and  liberally  outlined  one  upon  the  pillows, 
a  discerning  onlooker  would  have  said  that  to  the 
composition  of  the  one  woman  had  gone  tempered  fire 
and  refined  steel,  to  the  other  the  elements  in  their 
crudity. 

It  must  be  one  or  the  other — she,  or  this  woman. 
Reason,  common  sense,  everything  that  seems  highest 
and  wisest,  were  on  her  side.  On  the  other  side,  what? 
Nothing  but  that  which  we  are  in  the  habit  of  calling 
our  higher  nature — that  which  impels  us  to  the  doing 
of  many  vain  and  foolish  things,  yet  which,  in  the 
doing,  proves  us  to  be  other  than  the  beasts  that 
perish. 

The  still,  small  voice  urged  her  to  that  which,  from 
any  other  standpoint,  was  the  act  of  a  fool. 

With  those  simple,  pious  souls  who  count  not  the 
curse  they  may  bring  to  others  while  wrestling  for 
their  own  particular  crowns  of  glory  Sylvia  could 
claim  no  kinship.  She  saw  only  the  cross  of  martyr 
dom  upon  which  might  hang  the  one  to  whom  she  had 
given  herself  and  all  that  was  hers.  And  there  was 
always  the  chance  that  such  martyrdom  would  be  at 
once  senseless  and  useless. 

Louder  and  louder  arose  the  cry  of  the  Human, 


146         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

but  behind  it  was  yet  the  still,  small  voice.     Could  she 
heed  it,  and  yet  save  him?  » 

The  dawn  lay  cold  upon  the  narrowing  valley. 
Sylvia  arose,  rang  the  bell,  and,  bidding  the  porter 
send  the  lady's  maid  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour, 
crept  away. 


CHAPTER   XII 

DEAREST,  what  is  it?" 
She  lived  through  the  first  breathless 
question  evoked  by  the  sight  of  her  face; 
lived  through  the  long  drive  home,  through  David's 
silent  solicitude  for  her  comfort,  broken  as  it  was 
only  by  some  expression  of  endearment,  or  of  self- 
reproach  for  having  permitted  her  to  take  the  jour 
ney  alone. 

It  was  over  at  last,  and  then  came  an  hour  of  soli 
tude  in  her  own  room — a  solitude  nominally  devoted  to 
the  refreshment  of  the  body.  That,  too,  was  over, 
and  she  descended  to  the  little  sitting-room.  As  she 
opened  the  door,  David  sprang  to  meet  her — then 
paused,  looking  into  her  face  with  a  premonition  of 
catastrophe. 

"I  think  you  would  best  sit  over  there,  David,  on 
the  other  side  of  the  table.  It  will  be  easier  to  tell 
you — so." 

He  obeyed,  silently,  a  chill  in  his  heart.  Then 
Sylvia  began.  Once  or  twice  during  her  narration 
she  glanced  at  him.  He  sat  absolutely  still,  the 

H7 


148        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

light  behind  him,  and  his  face  consequently  in 
shadow. 

When  she  had  finished,  a  silence  fell  upon  them.  At 
length  he  spoke,  in  a  voice  she  scarcely  recognised. 

"  And  you  will  leave  me,  Sylvia  ?  " 

"David — David!  I  have  thought  it  all  out — in 
that  long  night  of  agony.  She  loved  you  first;  she 
loves  you  now.  She  is  penitent;  she  will  begin  anew. 
Hers  are  the  prior  rights " 

David  pushed  back  his  chair. 

"  She  does  not  love  me ! "  he  cried.  "  She  never 
did!  What  are  the  rights  of  a  neglectful  wife? 
What  are  her  rights,  I  say  ?  " 

The  struggle  of  the  night  before  started  afresh. 
What  human  prescience  could  foresee  the  actions  of  a 
woman  like  Clairette?  Might  not  she  herself  claim 
her  freedom?  And  yet  there  were  always  those  pres 
ent  rights  of  hers.  It  was  now — now! 

"  David,  you  must  go  back  to  her !  But,  oh,  David, 
do  you  not  think  I  have  suffered — that  long,  long 
night?  And  yet  what  did  I  care,  if  only  I  could  have 
spared  you — you — you?  And  I  could  not!  Over 
and  over  again  I  asked  myself,  '  Will  this  murderous 
sacrifice  help  him?  What  if  it  ruin  and  destroy  him? 
Oh,  Father  of  Mercies ! '  " 

She  leaned  against  the  table,  her  face  hidden  in  her 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         149 

hands.  In  a  moment,  however,  she  looked  up,  speak 
ing  quickly. 

"  But  it  is  right.  You  must  go  back  to  her.  I  will 
go  away.  I  have  made  up  my  mind.  There  is  no 
other  way." 

Then  David  arose,  and  his  face  was  as  the  face  of 
an  old  man. 

"  You  have  wrecked  my  life,"  he  said. 

«/?     David!" 

It  was  too  much.  In  another  instant  his  arms  were 
around  her,  and  she  was  sobbing  like  a  heartbroken 
child  upon  his  neck. 

Inconsistent?  Alas,  yes! — if  to  be  human  is  to  be 
inconsistent.  This  poor  humanity  of  ours,  so  much 
decried,  so  ostentatiously  despised,  yet  is  set  to  move 
mountains  and  to  accomplish  the  tasks  of  gods  and 
angels  at  the  cost  of  all  that  makes  dear  the  life 
appointed  to  it  by  no  will  of  its  own — this  gallant, 
struggling,  of  ttimes  starving,  humanity  of  ours ! 

"My  best-beloved!  What  is  to  become  of 
you?" 

Tears,  not  Sylvia's  alone,  were  on  his  face. 

"That  you  must  not  know.  It  will  be  my  secret. 
And,  David,  you  must  tell  her  all.  Dearest,  you  will 
have  it  to  do ! " 

"  Give  me  time — give  me  a  little  time ! " 


150        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Yet  even  as  they  clung  together  Sylvia  knew  that 
she  had  won,  but  would  not  have  been  woman  had  she 
not  wavered  in  the  hour  of  victory. 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  "  she  asked,  wistfully. 

"  I  do  not  know.     The  best  I  can." 

The  door  opened  and  shut.     He  was  gone. 

It  seemed  to  Sylvia  that  she  had  stood,  straight  and 
immovable,  a  long  age  before  he  returned. 

"  And  you  will  not  tell  me  where  you  will  go  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  They  dared  not  look  at  each 
other.  He  went,  and  this  time  did  not  come  back. 

"  De  Marse  done  gone  dis  long  while.  Oh,  my  pore 
lamb ! "  said  Aunt  Julie,  bending  over  Sylvia,  who  had 
lain  ill  for  many  days. 

"  De  ol'  Mammy  knows  it  all,"  she  pursued,  ten 
derly,  "  all  what  you  done  not  tell  him,  too.  Don't 
you  fret,  Miss  Sylvia ;  hit'll  all  come  right  an'  squar'. 
I's  gwine  wid  you-all;  de  Marse  done  fix  it  so.  Dis 
house,  he  lock  it  up ;  no  one  live  hyar  no  mo',  'cept  as 
it's  Uncle  Isaac  an'  de  boys,  to  care  for  de  Ian'.  De 
Marse  say  your  plunder  stay  hyar,  tel  de  day  come 
you  send  for  hit.  But  I's  gwine  pack  yo'  trunks, 
an'  Marse  done  set  to  one  side  de  readin'  you  loves 
most,  an'  de  paintin'  truck,  an'  a  heap  mo'  trash  as  he 
reckons'll  sorter  help  yo'.  He  'lows  you  go  ober  de 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         151 

mount'n,  an'  de  spring  wagon  rides  mighty  light  an' 
easy — an'  Francisco  to  hoi'  de  lines.  Don't  worry, 
honey  !  De  Marse,  he  done  forgot  nothin'.  De  horse, 
dey  rope  him  to  de  big  wagon." 

Then,  after  a  quick  glance  at  the  set,  white 
face  upon  the  pillow,  "Whar's  you  gwine,  anyway, 
honey  ?  " 

Sylvia  mentioned  the  place  she  had  thought  of,  a 
remote  village  a  mile  or  so  from  a  flag-station  on  the 
Correone  railroad.  The  Athertons  had  a  small  church 
there.  They  were  good  people,  no  doubt,  and  openly 
devoted  to  Christian  work;  therefore,  she  thought, 
they  would  be  kind  and  take  her  to  board.  She  could 
pay  them  well,  as  she  had  ample  means  of  her  own 
for  quiet  living.  She  would  write  at  once  to  Buckley 
and  he  would  arrange  for  the  payment  of  her 
dividends. 

"Then  we'll  have  to  lay  ober  at  Bubbling  Spring, 
sure!"  announced  Aunt  Julie,  decisively.  "  Datter 
road  too  long  ways  from  hyar  for  yo'  to  travel  in  less 
than  two-three  days,  Miss  Sylvia."  And  she  rolled 
away,  brimming  over  with  importance  at  the  trust  re 
posed  in  her  by  "  Marse." 

In  this,  Sylvia's  hour  of  agony,  there  was  but  one 
person  to  whom  she  desired  to  turn  for  help — to  the 
plain  mountain  woman,  with  her  strong  human  sym- 


152         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

pathies  and  her  flashes  of  spiritual  insight.  Upon 
that  broad  bosom  her  heart  yearned  to  lean.  But  it 
was  not  to  be.  The  woman  loved  David  and  under 
stood  him ;  that  settled  it.  There  was,  therefore,  only 
herself — her  own  strong  self.  And  could  she  not  be 
strong  ? 

Meanwhile  Aunt  Julie,  in  the  course  of  her  pack 
ing,  had  come  upon  something  that  caused  her  to  pause 
and  "  study."  That  something  was  the  small  portrait 
of  David  painted  by  Sylvia  the  preceding  fall.  It 
stool  on  an  easel  in  the  sitting-room,  an  effect  in  reds 
and  browns,  brilliant  with  colour  and  life,  truly  a 
"  speaking  likeness."  Aunt  Julie  gazed  upon  it  with 
fond  admiration. 

"  Oh,  Marse  Davie ! "  she  moaned ;  "  when's  you  ever 
gwine  look  datter  way  again?" 

After  some  further  consideration,  she  deliberately 
picked  it  up  and  laid  it  between  Sylvia's  gowns  in  the 
trunk. 

"  Miss  '11  be  sure  glad,  one  day  I  done  took  it,"  she 
assured  herself. 

David  had  hired  Francisco  for  a  few  days  on  the 
recommendation  of  a  friend.  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  fortunate  than  the  arrival  of  this  stranger 
on  the  scene.  Francisco  knew  merely  that  Mr.  King- 
don  was  a  married  man,  and  had  heard  in  the  past 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         153 

that  his  wife,  when  in  New  Mexico,  lived  at  Kingdon's 
Crossing.  Of  Sylvia  he  knew  nothing,  except  that 
she  was  a  sick  lady  who  wished  to  go  over  the  Sierras 
to  Rosalia  Valley.  He  had  received  orders  as  to  what 
route  to  take,  but  the  one  leading  past  Kingdon's 
Crossing  was  shorter  by  a  couple  of  miles.  When 
Uncle  Isaac,  who  drove  the  second  wagon,  and  was 
able,  as  Aunt  Julie  had  loudly  asserted,  to  "keep 
a  shet  mouf,"  remonstrated  at  this  disobedience,  Fran 
cisco  had  the  ready  Mexican  lie  at  hand. 

There  were  no  other  men  on  the  place  when  they 
started;  David  had  arranged  it  so. 

Kingdon's  Crossing  received  its  name  from  the  fact 
that  two  railroads  crossed  at  that  point,  and  that  it 
was  the  principal  shipping  point  for  the  Kingdon 
stock.  The  dwelling  house  had  been  built  according 
to  Clairette's  directions,  and  a  very  ridiculous  edifice 
it  was.  Taste,  as  exemplified  in  a  sense  of  the  fitness 
of  things,  seems  to  be  very  much  a  matter  of  back 
ground  or  hereditary  instinct.  It  was  a  frame  build 
ing,  unsuited  alike  to  the  climate  and  environment. 

Sufficiently  removed  from  the  "  residence,"  as  its 
mistress  had  termed  it,  and  lying  against  the  railroad 
track  and  the  small  station,  was  the  business  part  of 
the  establishment — conveniences  for  the  rounding-up, 
feeding,  watering,  and  shipping  of  cattle. 


154        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Clairette's  preference  for  this  somewhat  dreary 
abode  was  easy  of  comprehension.  Straight  up  one 
of  those  glittering  tracks,  a  few  hundred  miles,  lay 
what  had  meant  life  to  her — her  native  town,  whose 
little  social  wheels  whirled  desperately  to  keep  up  with 
the  bigger  wheels  still  farther  away,  never  realising 
how  far  behind  they  fell.  And  Clairette  shared  to  the 
full  that  passion  for  "  seeing  the  train  go  by  "  which 
is  the  birthright  of  the  vacant-minded. 

Aunt  Julie  had  never  been  to  Kingdon's  Crossing, 
and  furthermore,  as  the  wagon  rounded  a  bend  which 
afforded  a  view  of  the  house  and  barns,  she  was  sleep 
ing.  A  passenger  train  thundered  up  to  the  small 
station,  and  at  the  same  moment  two  figures  emerged 
from  the  house  and  walked  slowly  toward  the  track. 
Their  faces,  of  course,  were  not  distinguishable. 
They  did  not  turn  their  heads,  their  attention  appar 
ently  being  absorbed  by  the  arrival  of  the  train  from 
the  East.  But  for  Sylvia  there  could  be  no  possibil 
ity  of  mistake.  They  walked  very  slowly,  the  woman 
leaning  on  the  man,  and  he  accommodating  his  steps 
to  hers. 

Francisco  pointed  to  them  with  his  whip,  explain 
ing  that  he  had  been  told  that  the  Sefiora  down 
there  was  muy  mala,  that  it  was  believed  she  would 
die. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         155 

"No,  no!" 

The  Mexican  looked  in  astonishment  at  the  lady  in 
the  wagon.  Was  she  acquainted  with  the  Sefiora? 

"  No,  no  !— Si !     Oh,  quien  sabe!  " 

The  impatience  of  an  unendurable  anguish  had 
never  fallen  to  the  lot  of  Francisco.  He  removed  his 
astonished  regard,  and  bestowed  it  once  more  upon  his 
horses  and  upon  the  rolling  of  a  cigarette. 

Was  the  hideous  thing  that  had  seized  upon  her 
jealousy?  What  was  this  spasm  of  fury  that  seemed 
to  concentrate  itself  upon  David  ?  Why  had  he  yielded 
to  her?  He  might  have  known — might  have  known 
she  could  not  bear  it !  If  he  had  known  what  love 
was,  he  would  have  understood  that  she  could  not  bear 
this  pain!  And  he — had  already  forgotten.  He 
was  with  Clairette — his  wife ! 

A  low  moan  escaped  her  rigid  lips,  then  a  burst  of 
uncontrollable  sobs,  shaking  her  being  to  its  founda 
tions. 

And  Julie  awoke  and  staggered  toward  her.  "  My 
lamb ! "  she  said ;  "  what  ails  my  pore  lamb  ?  " 

The  old  woman  sat  down  and,  gathering  Sylvia  into 
her  arms,  pressed  the  fair  head  down  upon  her  faith 
ful  black  bosom.  "  Sleep,  honey,  sleep ! "  she  mur 
mured. 

Then  high  above  the  clatter  of  the  wheels  rose  the 


156        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

words  of  the  only  "white  folks"  hymn  with  which 
Aunt  Julie  was  familiar: 

"  They  climbed  the  steep  ascent  of  Heaven 

Through  peril,  toil  and  pain, 
Oh,  God,  to  us  may  grace  be  given 
To  follow  in  their  train !  " 

Thus,  clasped  in  the  arms  of  the  old-time  slave, 
Sylvia  was  borne  away. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

G3SSIP  concerning  the  Kingdon  domesticities 
had  pretty  well  run  its  course  in  the  regions 
where  David  was  known.  This  was  due  par 
tially  to  the  fact  that  very  few  members  of  this 
provincial  society  had  met  wife  number  two,  and 
wife  number  one  seemed  to  have  succumbed  to  an  at 
tack  of  silence,  and  obstinate  isolation  from  her  former 
associates.  That  Clairette  had  her  reasons  for  this, 
and  that  they  were  widely  remote  from  those  attrib 
uted  to  her,  goes  without  saying.  The  chief  reason, 
however,  for  the  comparative  absence  of  interest  in 
the  matter  was  the  excitement  created  by  the  steady 
and  daring  increase  of  cattle  stealing,  and  the  mys 
tery  surrounding  the  movements  of  Long  Tom,  which 
called  for  constant  discussion.  That  Cristol,  hitherto 
so  successful,  should  continue  to  be  baffled,  kept  curi 
osity,  and  even  apprehension,  continually  on  the  alert. 
The  chilly  rains  of  September  had  come  and  gone, 
and  a  slight  coolness  in  the  air  was  making  Clairette 
happy  in  the  thought  that  now  she  could  obey  her 
doctor's  instructions  and  live  in  a  tent,  and  that  in  a 
very  few  weeks  she  would  also  be  able  to  take  sun- 

151 


158         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

baths.  On  this  particular  morning  she  had  had  her 
steamer-chair  drawn  off  the  porch  into  the  sunshine, 
where  David  presently  joined  her.  This  living  at  the 
Crossing  was  awkward  for  him,  as  it  necessitated  in 
cessant  travelling  on  his  part.  But  Clairette  would 
have  stoutly  declined  to  go  to  a  lower  altitude,  and  he 
himself  would  have  refused  to  take  her  to  the  River 
Ranch. 

"Clairette,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,"  he 
began,  after  making  all  the  inquiries  called  for  by  the 
situation.  His  manner  betrayed  as  near  an  approach 
to  awkwardness  as  was  possible  for  him. 

"  Don't  let's  have  a  scene,  David ! "  she  retorted, 
nestling  down  into  her  chair  in  the  glorious  sunlight. 
"  I'm  out  here  to  be  company  for  you  and  to  get  well. 
My  physician  says  I  must  not  be  agitated,  but  have 
things  to  suit  me,  and  must  think  about  just  nothing 
but  doing  the  best  I  can  for  my  health — live  in  the 
fresh  air,  sleep  in  a  tent,  and  eat  as  much  as  I  pos 
sibly  can.  I  asked  him  if  I  mightn't  use  an  umbrella 
till  cold  weather  came" — here  she  glanced  at  the  in 
genious  umbrella  holder  David  had  that  morning  im 
provised  and  set  up  for  her — "  because  you  always  ad 
mired  my  skin,  didn't  you,  David?  And  he  said  that 
I  could.  And  I  was  to  take  my  temperature  twice  a 
day,  and  notice  what  made  it  rise." 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH         159 

Thus  she  ran  on,  while  David's  heroic  effort  to  lis 
ten  patiently  showed  itself  chiefly  in  an  intensification 
of  the  pathos  of  his  face,  as  with  characteristic  deft 
ness  he  busied  himself  in  arranging  on  a  stand  at  her 
side  the  various  impedimenta  of  idleness. 

"  But,  Clairette,"  he  interposed  at  length,  an  un 
accustomed  note  of  weariness  in  his  voice,  "I  have 
been  told  on  good  authority  that  the  invalids  who  come 
out  here  in  your  condition — not  so  very  sick,  you 
know — get  well  far  more  quickly  and  surely  if  they 
live  a  little  bit  like  other  folks.  If  they  take  interest 
in  outside  things,  for  instance,  and  don't  watch  tem 
peratures  all  day,  and  think  of  nothing  except  whether 
they're  getting  all  the  fresh  air  their  doctor  pre 
scribed,  and  eating  enough,  and  all  that.  Suppose 
you  let  me  get  you  a  horse  and  buggy,  and  drive  up 
in  the  mountains  to  those  mines  just  above  here,  and 
look  around  and  see  all  the  changes  that  have  gone  on 
since  you  were  here.  I've  seen  fellows  come  up  into 
the  mountains  and  get  to  botanising  or  geologising, 
or  even  mining,  and  pull  their  minds  clean  off  their 
own  internal  machinery,  and  get  well  in  a  hurry.  Sup 
pose  you  try,  eh  ?  " 

"  Don't,  David ! "  she  exclaimed  petulantly,  putting 
up  a  feeble,  protesting  hand ;  "  I'm  not  a  '  fellow  ' — 
a  great,  rough  man !  I'm  determined  to  do  just  as  my 


160        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

physician  says,  and  you  know  what  a  strong  will  I 
have.  What  time  is  it  now,  anyhow?  I  believe  it's 
time  to  take  my  temperature,  and  that  stupid  Justine 
has  forgotten  the  thermometer,  as  usual!  No  one 
cares  how  I  feel  or  what  becomes  of  me,  and  yet  the 
doctor  told  mamma  it  was  a  case  of  life  or  death  al 
most.  Oh,  David ! "  she  cried,  holding  out  her  arms  to 
him  in  a  sudden  access  of  selfish  terror,  and  bursting 
into  loud  weeping,  "  I  don't  want  to  die !  I  must  get 
well !  Don't  let  me  die,  David ! " 

And  this  would  have  been  another  David  if  he  had 
not  taken  his  wife  in  his  arms  and  soothed  her  grief 
and  wiped  away  her  tears.  Then,  as  Justine  hastened 
with  the  thermometer,  and  the  form  of  nourishment 
ordained  for  that  particular  hour,  he  turned  away. 

"  Come  back  soon ! "  cried  Clairette. 

He  nodded,  then  went  around  the  barn  and  flung 
himself  face  downward  on  a  pile  of  gramma  hay  in 
the  shade.  There  he  lay,  absolutely  still,  for  one  long 
hour.  But  he  was  not  asleep ;  and  had  any  one  been 
there  to  see  or  care,  they  might  have  observed  a  tear 
on  the  long,  dark  lashes  resting  on  the  cheek  upper 
most. 

"I  haven't  any  temperature  this  morning,"  was 
Clairette's  cheerful  salutation,  upon  his  return,  "so 
we  can  talk  about  anything  you  want." 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        161 

It  was  characteristic  of  his  wife  that  she  had  not 
yet  asked  him  a  single  question  concerning  his  well  or 
ill  being  during  her  long  absence,  or  manifested  the 
faintest  interest  in  his  affairs. 

"  A  woman  in  the  case,  of  course ! "  she  said,  turn 
ing  her  eyes  from  her  abstracted  husband  toward  the 
small  hand-mirror,  held  in  such  a  position  that  she 
could  observe  whether  or  not  the  slight  hollows  in  her 
cheeks  were  beginning  to  vanish. 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  proceeded.  "  I'm  woman  of  the 
world  enough  to  understand  that  wives  must  expect 
such  things  if  they  leave  their  husbands  for  only  a 
few  months;  and  I  was  gone  nearly  two  years,  and 
supposed  to  be  dead  and  all  that.  Of  course  it  was 
the  inevitable  liaison!  Why  should  we  talk  about  it?" 

David's  eyes  grew  dark,  and  they  were  reflected  in 
Clairette's  mirror  as  he  stood  a  little  behind  her  chair. 

"  For  mercy's  sake,  don't  look  that  way ! "  she  ejac 
ulated,  peevishly.  "I'm  not  blaming  you,  am  I? 
Can't  I  speak  without  your  getting  mad  at  me?  Let 
me  tell  you,  some  wives  wouldn't  have  acted  as  well 
as  I've  done ! " 

"  Clairette,"  he  said,  conquering  himself  and  com 
ing  around  so  as  to  face  her,  and  keeping  guard  on 
eyes  and  voice,  "I  am  not  mad,  but  I  am  troubled. 
Clairette,  you  say  you  were  supposed  to  be  dead.  The 


162        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

case  was  stronger  than  that;  you  were  proved  dead 
by  competent  witnesses." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  hear  all  that  horrid  stuff 
again ! "  she  cried ;  "  I'm  sick  to  death  of  it ! " 

"Unfortunately,  Clairette,  it  is  important  to  the 
case.  The  other  woman  you  spoke  of  as  being  ine 
vitable — I  married  her." 

"You  married  one  of  those  creatures — you, 
David  ? "  She  was  watching  him  curiously,  as  the 
words  fell  slowly  from  her  lips.  "  I  did  not  know  men 
ever  did  such  things — at  least,  not  fussy,  particular 
men  like  you." 

He  closed  his  eyes  for  a  moment.  Steady,  sweet, 
and  strong  rang  in  his  ears,  "Dearest,  you  will  have 
it  to  do! " 

When  he  opened  his  eyes,  his  wife  was  again  busy 
with  her  hand-mirror.  He  drew  up  a  chair,  sat  down 
in  front  of  her,  took  the  mirror,  and  captured  her 
hands.  His  face  had  once  more  relapsed  into  some 
thing  of  its  winning  curves. 

"  Clairette,  listen  to  me.  I  married  a  good  woman. 
Do  you  understand?  As  soon  as  she  discovered  that 
she  had  taken  your  place,  and  that  we  both  had  done 
you  an  injury  without  intending  to  do  so,  she  went 
away.  We  parted." 

Clairette  was  growing  interested.     This  was  bet- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         163 

ter  than  a  novel  of  adventure,  or  even  the  latest  his 
torical  romance.  She  forgot  what  the  doctor  had  told 
her  about  not  "  running  up  a  temperature,"  and  sat 
erect  in  her  chair. 

"  She  went  away  ? "  she  repeated,  in  awe-struck 
tones.  "  Where  did  she  go,  David?  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"You  don't  know?"  she  repeated,  dubiously  this 
time. 

Then,  impelled  by  the  same  tolerance  which  had 
marked  her  conduct  during  the  whole  of  this  surpris 
ing  interview,  she  put  out  one  finger  and  gently 
touched  his  firm,  round  cheek. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  cared  much,  David,"  mani 
festing  for  the  first  time  some  interest  in  him  as  him 
self.  "  You  look  paler  than  you  did,  and  I  think  have 
lost  some  flesh,  but  you're  handsomer  than  ever,  I  do 
honestly  believe!  But  if  you'd  cared  so  awfully 
much,  you  could  easily  have  got  a  Dakota  or  Okla 
homa  divorce,  you  know.  I  guess  she  got  tired  of 
this  kind  of  thing," — waving  her  other  hand  toward 
the  detached  and  remote  landscape — "  and  didn't  feel, 
anyway,  as  if  the  business  was  worth  a  scandal." 
Then  abruptly,  "  Did  she  live  here?  " 

Again  he  shook  his  head. 

"When  did  you  get  married?" 


164        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

It  was  at  this  point  that  David  had  to  employ  the 
talent  once  described  by  Buckley  as  "  a  considerable 
agility  in  dodging  things."  He  succeeded,  however, 
in  handing  his  wife  dexterously  away  from  an  awk 
ward  question  and  involving  her,  as  dexterously,  in 
others. 

"Were  you  together  when  she  found  out  that  I 
was  alive  ?  " 

"No.  She  had  gone  away  on  a  little  trip,  partly 
on  business  for  me,  and  learned  of  it  on  the  road. 
When  she  came  back,  she  told  me.  Then  she  went 
away." 

Clairette,  who  had  relapsed  into  a  recumbent  atti 
tude,  now  ceased  to  cough,  and  sat  erect  again. 
"When  did  she  take  that  trip,  David?" 

He  told  her. 

"  Then  I  know  all  about  her ! "  she  exclaimed,  with 
slow  and  deliberate  emphasis.  "I  met  her  on  that 
very  train !  I  didn't  think  her  particularly  pretty," 
— in  spite  of  himself,  her  auditor  winced — "but  she 
was  real  good  to  me.  Justine  was  stupid  and  tired, 
and  this  person  sat  up  part  of  the  night  with  me.  I 
was  feeling  dreadfully!  I  told  her  my  story.  She 
didn't  say  much,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it.  I  guess 
she  was  wondering  how  she  could  get  away  without  a 
fuss.  She  looked  ill;  maybe  she  has  lung  trouble, 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         165 

too?  No?  If  she  had,  she  wouldn't  have  gone  away 
from  this  climate,  at  least  7  wouldn't  in  her  place. 
David," — solemnly — "  I'm  not  one  mite  afraid  of  her ! 
And  I'm  glad  you've  told  me ;  for  it  shows  what  con 
fidence  you  must  have  in  my  good  sense  and  kind 
heart.  And  I'm  glad  I've  met  her,  and  got  to  know 
what  she's  like,  and  all  that.  She's  a  perfectly 
splendid  nurse!  I  do  believe  if  you  have  to  go  East 
anv  time  before  I'm  well,  I  wouldn't  mind  having  her 
to  nurse  me !  I'm  not  altogether  sure  about  that,  how 
ever;  it  might  be  awkward.  It's  an  awfully  queer 
feeling,  knowing  that  your  husband  has  had  another 
wife  while  you  were  alive.  It's  just  like  a  novel. 
And,  David " 

But  David's  endurance  was  at  an  end.  Rising,  he 
said  gently,  "  Shall  we  consider  this  chapter  closed, 
Clairette?  You've  been  very  good  and  generous,  and 
I  appreciate  it — every  bit.  But  don't  let  us  talk  of 
the  past  any  more.  You've  got  to  live  in  the  present 
now,  and  get  well  and  strong." 

"Oh,  suit  yourself,  David!  I  think,  on  the  whole, 
it  would  be  better  to  let  this  affair  pass  entirely  out  of 
our  lives." 

It  was  true  that  Clairette  had  returned  with  the 
intention  of  being  very  good  to  her  husband — when 


166        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

she  should  recover  her  health.  A  husband  is  a  useful 
person,  especially  when  he  has  plenty  of  money,  and 
she  really  was  as  fond  of  David  as  it  was  in  her  nature 
to  be  fond  of  any  one.  Needless  to  say  that  she  was 
of  a  jealous  temperament;  women  of  her  mental  limi 
tations  invariably  are;  but  for  more  than  one  reason 
this  tendency  was,  for  the  time  being,  under  an 
eclipse. 

David  had  always  been  pathetically  anxious  to  keep 
the  domestic  hearthstone  warm ;  and  therefore  it  is  to 
be  presumed  that  he  had  never  given  even  a  careless 
wife  obvious  cause  for  jealousy.  Clairette  had  felt, 
from  the  first,  fairly  sure  of  her  husband. 

Her  remembrance  of  Sylvia — pale,  with  dark 
shadows  beneath  her  large  eyes,  and  under  the  unbe 
coming  light  of  the  car  lamps — was  not  that  of  a 
very  dangerous  rival.  On  the  contrary,  she  had  im 
pressed  Clairette  principally  as  what  she  herself  de 
scribed  as  "  a  good  woman."  Moreover,  according  to 
Clairette's  sage  reasoning,  Sylvia  would  not  have 
left  a  rich  man  and  a  comfortable  home  without  a 
fight  unless  she  intended  to  give  up  the  game  alto 
gether. 

As  regarded  rivalry,  Sylvia's  exquisite  grace  and 
elegance,  which  had  always  excited  the  good-natured 
envy  of  her  fuller  and  more  fashionably  figured  sis- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         167 

ters,  was  to  a  certain  extent  lost  upon  Clairette.  This 
is  to  say,  she  was  merely  vaguely  aware  that  here  was 
something  to  which  she  had  not  attained.  In  short, 
only  faintly  she  realised  that  Sylvia  was  in  possession 
of  an  "  air,"  for  the  acquirement  of  which  she,  Clair 
ette,  might  strive  in  vain  all  the  days  of  her  life.  A 
well-formed  woman  in  her  own  style,  she  was  not  tall 
enough  for  up-to-date  requirements;  consequently, 
whilst  submitting  to  fashion's  arbitrary  dictum,  she 
presented  something  of  the  appearance  of  a  full- 
blooded  pouter-pigeon. 

But  the  real  secret  of  Clairette's  comparative  in 
difference  to  "  the  other  woman  "  lay  deeper  yet.  The 
ruling  passion  of  her  existence  at  this  time  had 
another  source.  It  had  made  itself  manifest  even 
whilst  she  was  giving  ear  to  David's  narration.  It 
was  in  the  action  with  which  she  withdrew  her  arm 
from  its  light  wraps  and  contemplated  and  felt  it, 
with  constantly  recurring  attention.  Clairette  had 
but  one  idea  in  her  brain  at  present — the  dread  and 
terror  of  death.  Get  well  she  would,  if  the  way  to  life 
should  lie  over  the  bodies  of  her  friends,  of  David 
himself.  Nothing  in  her  world  was  of  so  much  im 
portance  as  that  she  should  lay  on  a  desired  number 
of  pounds  per  week. 

Clairette's   mental   attitude,   although   in   her   case 


168        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

somewhat  exaggerated,  was  in  truth  merely  that  of 
many  victims  of  a  disease  conceded  to  be  unique  in 
its  moral  effect.  In  her  case  no  great  metamorphosis 
was  requisite  to  reduce  her  to  a  condition  of  abject 
self -absorption,  in  which  the  ills  of  others,  no  matter 
how  much  graver  and  more  agonising  they  may  be, 
pass — unless  of  the  same  nature — unregarded,  un- 
pitied.  Clairette  had  never  failed  to  shrink  from  sick 
people,  and  hitherto  had  never  been  sick  herself; 
therefore,  when  the  dark  mantle  of  a  complete  sel 
fishness  fell  upon  and  enshrouded  her,  the  spectacle 
was  less  piteous  than  the  like  annihilation  of  a  nobler 
nature. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

NOW,  mother,  you  shall  not  write  Sylvia  like 
that!" 

The  speaker  was  Etta  Van  Schoolen. 
She  had  entered  Mrs.  Newman's  room  one  morn 
ing,  to  find  that  lady  rapidly  covering  sheet  after  sheet 
of  crested  paper  with  an  eloquence  which,  after  a 
cursory  glance  thereat,  Mrs.  Van  Schoolen  considered 
misdirected. 

Etta,  more  than  ever  the  "  glass  of  fashion  and  the 
mould  of  form,"  well  groomed  to  the  last  hair  on  her 
erect  head,  wore  the  unvexed,  prosperous  air  of  the 
typical  young  matron  of  New  York's  Upper  Four. 
She  now  laid  a  firm,  immaculately  gloved  hand  on  her 
mother's  letter. 

"  Shall  not,"  echoed  Mrs.  Newman,  with  an  indig 
nation  which  in  this  daughter's  case  had  long  since 
proved  futile.  "  That's  strange  talk  from  you  to  me, 
Etta." 

"I'm  sorry,  mother,"  pursued  the  offender,  una 
bashed,  however,  "  but  I  can't  help  it.  I'm  a  married 
woman  myself,  and  I  can  feel  for  poor  Sylvia." 

169 


1TO         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"And  am  /  not  a  married  woman?"  retorted  the 
older  lady,  in  a  still  stronger  tone  of  offence,  "  and 
a  mother,  too !  Etta,  you  forget  yourself ! " 

"  No,  mother,  I  don't — excuse  me.  But  Sylvia 
was  awfully  in  love  with  Mr.  Kingdon,  and  it  must 
be  pretty  hard "  The  speaker  paused,  embar 
rassed  for  a  moment;  for  she  herself  was  quite  un- 
fashionably  in  love  with  her  husband.  Then  she  con 
tinued  : 

"What  you've  written  is  going  to  hurt  Sylvia 
badly,  and  it  won't  do  any  good  that  I  can  see.  Of 
course,  she  won't  think  of  coming  back  to  us  yet,  so 
it's  not  necessary  to  urge  her  to  stay  away.  No  one 
could  ever  accuse  Sylvia  of  being  wanting  in  good 
taste.  But  let  her  alone,  and  she  can  travel  a  while, 
or  something,  until  this  affair  has  blown  over." 

"  Yes ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Newman,  her  spirit  rising 
with  the  sense  that  this  time  she  had  the  better  of  the 
argument;  "very  nice  and  comfortable  indeed — if 
there's  no  baby ! " 

"Mother!"  The  word  broke  from  Etta's  lips  in 
a  cry. 

"  Hush,  Etta ! "  glancing  toward  the  portieres, 
"  The  servants ! " 

"Mother,  what  makes  you  think  of  anything  so 
perfectly  dreadful ! r 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         171 

"  Because  it  is  not  an  unheard  of  occurrence  in  mar 
ried  life,  my  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Newman,  senten- 
tiously,  still  elated  at  her  own  superior  acumen. 

"  Did  Sylvia  hint  anything?  " 

"Not  a  word!   But " 

"Well,  then,  don't  let  us  think  of  such  a  horrid 
contretemps,"  said  Etta,  restored  to  her  wonted  de 
cisiveness.  "  Sylvia  can  travel  around  with  a  good 
maid,  and  do  some  lionising.  She  likes  scenery,  and 
there's  plenty  in  this  country  that  she's  never  seen. 
Then,  in  a  couple  of  years  or  so,  she  can  come  back  to 
New  York,  a  widow,  and  settle  down." 

"Travel!"  groaned  the  mother,  with  uplifted 
hands,  her  mind  reverting  to  perils  to  which  the 
greatest  of  all  had  momentarily  rendered  her  indif 
ferent.  "Why,  Etta,  think  of  our  enormous  ac 
quaintance,  and  how  sure  she  would  be  to  meet  some 
of  them,  travelling  around  that  way,  and  she  not  in 
mourning !  The  whole  scandal  would  be  out  in  no 
time!  No,  if  you  won't  let  me  be  the  judge  of  what 
is  wisest  in  so  serious  a  matter,  and  write  your  sister 
as  my  heart  and  sense  dictate,  I  shall  certainly  tell  her 
at  least  to  go  to  some  obscure  place,  and  stay  there 
indefinitely.  She  can  take  up  her  sketching  again,  and 
you  and  Cora  can  send  her  a  package  of  new  books 
and  music.  But  I  cannot  and  will  not  submit  to  a 


172        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

scandal  as  the  result  of  her  wilfulness  about  that  Mr. 
Kingdom ! " 

So  saying,  Mrs.  Newman  took  a  fresh  sheet  of 
paper, 'her  daughter  lingering  only  long  enough  to 
see  that  it  was  of  less  dangerous  size,  and  again  pro 
ceeded  to  write  vigorously. 

As  Etta  moved  away  to  seek  Cora  she  uttered  a 
half-sigh.  After  all,  as  she  had  observed,  it  was 
pretty  hard.  She  found  her  sister  engrossed  with 
tailors'  samples,  in  view  of  the  approaching  Horse 
Show. 

"Isn't  this  too  chic  for  anything?"  exclaimed 
Cora,  holding  out  one  of  the  samples  for  inspection. 
Etta  replied  in  the  affirmative  without  looking,  and 
walked  to  the  window. 

"Why,  what's  struck  you,  Etta?  I  never  saw  you 
'  shy,'  as  Harry  would  say,  at  samples  before.  Come 
and  tell  me  how  you  think  these  two  would  work  up 
into  a  combination  gown  for  the  first  evening  ? " 

"I'm  thinking  of  poor  Sylvia,  and  the  snarl  she's 
made  of  her  life,"  said  Etta,  paying  no  heed  to  her 
sister's  request.  "  I  wonder,  does  Mr.  Buckley  know?  " 

"Why  should  he?" 

"  Oh,  only  because  father  thought  so  much  of  him, 
and  left  Sylvia's  money  in  his  hands  till  she  came  of 
age.  I  know  she  writes  him  sometimes,  and  he  always 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         173 

did  think  we  weren't  good  enough  to  polish  her  shoes. 
Poor  Sylvia!  And  think  he  and  Mr.  Kingdon  were 
chums;  that's  how  we  came  to  know  him.  Harry's 
gone  around  to  the  club  for  only  half  an  hour;  so  I 
believe  I'll  get  him  to  drive  me  to  Buckley's  rooms  in 
stead  of  to  the  Park." 

"Well,  anyhow,"  observed  Cora,  with  an  air  of 
finality,  "  mamma  says  there's  no  use  in  worrying, 
and  she  told  me  she  warned  Sylvia " 

"  How  could  she  '  warn  Sylvia '  that  Mr.  Kingdon 
was  a  married  man  when  he  did  not  know  it  himself?  " 
interrupted  the  elder  sister,  contemptuously. 

"  No,  of  course  she  could  not  say  anything  defi 
nite,"  replied  the  more  phlegmatic  younger  woman; 
"  but  she  said  Mr.  Kingdon  was  one  of  those  Western 
mushrooms  of  whom  no  one  knows  anything." 

"  Sylvia  told  us  herself  he  was  an  Englishman  by 
birth." 

"That  makes  it  still  worse!"  retorted  Cora, 
triumphantly.  "We  all  know  the  kind  of  English 
who  do  us  the  favour  of  making  their  home  in  our 
country." 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  said  Etta  with  a  gesture  of  impa 
tience.  "You  know  you  liked  Mr.  Kingdon,  Cora, 
and  so  did  I.  He  danced  and  skated  divinely,  and 
never  bored  one." 


174        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  He  certainly  was  handsome ! "  murmured  Cora, 
reflectively. 

"Well,  then,  why  should  we  tear  him  to  pieces 
now  ?  And  he  certainly  made  Sylvia  happy ;  any  one 
could  tell  that  by  her  letters.  And  that's  a  good  deal, 
I  can  tell  you,  Cora ! "  added  the  married  sister, 
sapiently.  "You  just  wait  till  you're  married,  and 
then  you'll  find  out  that,  although  of  course  money 
and  family  and  such  things  come  first,  there  are  other 
things  which  count,  too." 

"  Oh,  I'm  much  too  well  occupied  to  get  married," 
Cora  said,  turning  again  to  her  samples.  "But  do 
as  you  think  best  about  Mr.  Buckley,  Etta;  only  I 
wouldn't  tell  mother  if  I  were  you." 

"Tell  mother!"  echoed  Etta,  with  fine  disdain; 
and  then,  hearing  her  husband  in  the  hall,  she  hur 
ried  away. 

The  Van  Schoolens  found  Buckley  at  home,  and 
for  the  first  time  Etta  saw  this  old  friend  in  a  kind  of 
mental  dishabille.  His  manner,  usually  lazily  quizzi 
cal,  had  the  languor  of  a  person  who  is  indifferent  to 
the  opinion  of  his  world.  He  was  grave,  almost  sad. 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  from  them  both,"  he  admitted, 
in  reply  to  her  query. 

"  And  what  do  you  think  about  it?  "  inquired  Etta, 
anxiously. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         175 

Buckley  shrugged  his  shoulders  slightly;  it  was 
the  old  gesture,  with  a  difference. 

"I  think  nothing,  Mrs.  Van  Schoolen.  All  I  can 
say  is  tjiat  I  did  not  believe  Kingdon  had  it  in  him  to 
rise  to  your  sister's  level.  He  has  proved  that  he  has 
capacities  with  which  I  did  not  credit  him,  and  I  take 
off  my  hat  to  him  in  spirit,  that's  all." 

"But,  Mr.  Buckley,"  said  Etta,  hesitatingly,  "I 
know  Sylvia's  in  the  right,  in  a  way;  the  marriage 
tie  must  be  respected  under  all  circumstances;  yet 
don't  you  consider  that  she  might  have  managed  a 
little  better? — need  not  have  been  quite  so  quixotic?  " 

"Mrs.  Van  Schoolen,  I  do  not  feel  able  to  judge. 
I  know  only  that  if  I  made  up  my  mind  to  have  my 
leg  cut  off  I  should  want  it  done  in  a  hurry,  without 
bungling.  Your  sister  has  chosen,  we  may  presume, 
the  course  that  suits  her  own  ideas  of  right.  Her  hus 
band  has  behaved  like  a  man  and  a  gentleman." 

Etta  sighed,  and  Buckley  decided  that  he  had 
never  before  liked  her  so  well ;  he  had  scarcely  expected 
her  to  show  so  much  feeling.  Then  he  spoke 
of  the  financial  arrangements  he  had  resolved  upon 
with  Sylvia,  which  practically  gave  him  power  of 
attorney  over  her  affairs,  in  order  that  she  might 
receive  remittances  direct  from  him  and  thus  excite 
as  little  remark  as  possible  over  her  change  of  name. 


176         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  She  has  taken  the  name  of  your  father's  family 
— Archibald.  I  have  further  advised  her  to  accept 
the  allowance  insisted  upon  by  Kingdon,  which  will 
also  be  paid  through  me.  Under  the  circumstances,  it 
is  perfectly  right  and  proper  that  she  should  not 
refuse  him  this  one  satisfaction,  after  the  sacrifice  she 
has  exacted  of  him.  Have  you  her  address  ? "  he 
added. 

"  Not  yet.  She  said  she  would  write  again.  She 
has  been  sick." 

"  Yes,  but  now  she  is  established  with  some  people, 
missionaries  or  something  of  the  kind,  at  a  small  set 
tlement  off  the  railroad.  There  are  reasons  why  she 
should  not  go  down  into  Mexico,  far  away  from 
friends.  It  would  be  more  than  she  could  bear " 

Buckley  broke  off ;  for  a  moment  he  could  not  pro 
ceed. 

"  Poor,  poor  Sylvia ! "  sighed  Etta. 

There  was  a  short  silence.  Then  Harry  Van 
Schoolen  spoke. 

"It's  a  pretty  bad  business,  anyhow.  Mrs.  New 
man's  awfully  cut  up  about  it.  You  don't  think 
there'll  be  any  scandal,  do  you,  Buckley  ?  " 

"  In  what  way  ?  "  rej  oined  Buckley,  coldly.  "  The 
place  Mrs.  Kingdon  has  selected  is  quite  remote  from 
her  former  home.  The  whole  tragedy  is  well  removed 


LTHE   HUMAN   TOUCH        177 

from  our  civilisation.  I  think  you  need  be  under  no 
apprehension." 

"  Come,  Etta,"  Van  Schoolen  said,  consulting  his 
watch,  "  we  must  be  off.  And  we  are  detaining  Mr. 
Buckley,  too." 

Etta  held  out  her  hand.  "Good-bye,  Mr.  Buck 
ley.  How  can  we  ever  thank  you  enough ! " 


CHAPTER    XV 

SUCH  an  unfortunate  occurrence!  .  .  .  Sylvia 
must  see  for  herself  that  it  was  impossible  for 
any  member  of  her  family  to  join  her,  or  for 
her  to  return  to  her  loved  ones  at  present,  for  the 
reporters  would  get  hold  of  the  affair.  In  their 
position " — Mrs.  Newman  was  now  alluding  to  the 
Family,  of  course — "  and  with  their  prominence  in 
Society,  such  a  catastrophe  was  not  to  be  considered. 
Noblesse  oblige!  .  .  .  Meantime,  she  had  her 
fond  mother's  love  and  sympathy  " — and  so  forth  and 
so  on. 

The  inestimable  boon  of  cocksureness  is  rarely 
granted  to  natures  of  fine  fibre;  or  at  least,  seldom 
survives  in  any  degree  of  completeness  the  deed 
prompted  by  that  happy  confidence. 

"I  must  not  give  way,"  whispered  Sylvia  to  her 
self,  as  she  laid  aside  her  mother's  letter,  "  I  must  not. 
God  lend  me  strength ! " 

Then  there  flashed  upon  her  mind  a  sentence  that 
occurred  in  a  French  book  which  David  had  once  read 
aloud  to  her: 

"  C'est   le   crime   qui   fait   la   honte,   et   non   pas 

1'echafaud." 

178 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         179 

Hers  was  the  scaffold,  not  the  crime. 

"Mis'  Sylvie,"  Aunt  Julie  poked  her  head  in 
through  the  door,  and  spoke  mysteriously. 

"Go  'long,  Aunt  Julie!  Here  I  come!"  And 
Sylvia  was  in  the  arms  of  Mrs.  Johnson. 

"  I  come  down  to  the  city  to  see  my  dentist,"  pro 
ceeded  that  lady,  after  the  first  greetings  had  passed, 
"  and  on  the  street  met  up  with  this  Christian  worker 
of  yours,  and  told  him  right  square  as  how  I  was  most 
demented  about  you ;  and  after  some  fussin',  he  says : 
'She's  been  under  my  roof  for  quite  a  while,'  says 
he.  And" — here  Johnny  whirled,  and  bent  her 
piercing  eyes  upon  Sylvia — "  and  I'll  lay  most 
any  odds  that's  he's  chargin'  it  up  to  you,  all 
right?" 

"  No,  Johnny — no ! "  Sylvia  said  earnestly ;  "  not 
more,  I  think,  than  any  one  would  ask  under  the  cir 
cumstances.  Aunt  Julie  and  I  require  four  of  their 
rooms,  because  we  need  a  kitchen." 

Mrs.  Johnson  sniffed.  This  performance  relieved 
her  own  mind  without  insulting,  too  grossly,  the  un 
derstanding  of  her  companion. 

"Well,  anyhow,  I  never  would  have  thought  of 
this  place  but  for  meetin'  him,  and  he  made  me  that 
mad  that  I  just  struck  a  bee-line  for  the  depot, 
bought  my  ticket,  and  here  I  am ! " 


180        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

The  two  women  clasped  hands  silently. 

"I'm  comin'  to  you,  my  dearie!"  whispered  the 
elder. 

"Johnny — dear  Johnny — how  can  you?  The 
farm— Teddy?" 

"  Oh,  the  work  won't  have  well  set  in  by  then. 
And  as  for  Ted,  he'll  be  all  right,  and  if  he  ain't,  it's 
time  he  learned  as  his  Maw  ain't  one  to  go  back  on  a 
friend.  He'll  be  all  right,  though.  He'll  be  proud 
to  run  the  ranch  for  me,  and  he  can  cook  to  beat  the 
band,  and  crack  a  gun  as  good  as  the  other  fellow. 
Now  let  me  tell  you  what  your  Christian  worker  says, 
an'  you  tell  me  if  I  done  right. 

" '  Mrs.  Johnson,'  says  he,  *  our  young  friend 
doubtless  needed  chastisement,  or  the  good  Lord 
wouldn't  ha'  sent  it  along.  Her  lines  has  been  laid 
off  in  pleasant  places,'  he  says,  '  eatin'  o'  the  fat  o' 
the  land  an'  drinkin'  of  its  cream.  We  all  has  our 
burdens,'  says  he,  'an'  hers  has  been  long  in  comin', 
an'  tel  she  bows  her  shoulder  to  it  in  a  humble  an' 
thankful  sperit,  it's  a-goin'  to  set  heavy.  She  don't 
bow  sufficient,'  says  he,  '  she  should  pour  out  her  soul 
in  prayer  with  me,'  he  says,  '  an'  let  me  wrestle  with 
the  Lord  for  her,  an'  let  patience  have  her  perfect 
work.' 

"I  looked  him  up  and  down,  an' — don't  smile,  my 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         181 

dearie! — an'  I  said  nothin' — not  one  word!  But  I 
thought,  an'  I  thought — oh,  a  heap! — of  those  wild 
young  ones  in  the  mountains,  an'  the  good  you  done 
'em  an'  most  every  one  as  come  nigh  you,  your  mind 
always  turnin'  last  thing  to  your  own  self;  an'  the 
good  wife  you  been.  Dearie,  how  could  I  speak?" 
she  concluded,  with  childlike  earnestness.  "If  you 
was  me,  could  you  have  spoke?  " 

For  answer  Sylvia  pressed  the  toil-roughened,  yet 
strangely  sensitive,  hand  more  closely  in  her  own. 

"  Now,  my  dear,"  continued  Johnny,  "  I  want  you 
to  understand  as  you've  picked  a  number-one  place, 
ef  so  be  as  you  had  to  go  off.  It's  way  back  from  the 
railroad — clear  and  clean  away  from  old  trails  and 
locations.  He  don't  even  ship  on  this  side  the  moun 
tain,  nor  trade  in  this  city,  as  you  know.  And" — • 
lowering  her  voice — "I'm  to  the  house  oncet  in  a 
while.  Oh,  but  it  hurts  bad  to  go  there!  I  does  it 
for  his  sake — an'  yours — jes'  to  see  how  the  land 
lays.  She  don't  worry  about  things  as  has  been,  mer 
ciful  gracious  be  thanked!  She's  stuck  on  you,  any 
way,  believin'  as  you'll  act  on  the  square;  an'  I  told 
her  as  neither  me  nor  him  knew  where  you  was.  An' 
she  sorter  fancies  me  because  I've  been  around  sick 
folks  a  lot  an'  knows  how  to  do  for  them ;  then  she's 
too  taken  up  with  her  own  ailin'  to  be  jealous." 


182         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"I  came  here  because  I  did  not  feel  able  to  go 
farther  away  from  help,  or  travel  a  long  distance; 
and  the  Athertons  did  not  seem  to  mind  taking 
me " 

"  Mind!  "  Mrs.  Johnson  sniffed  again.  "  I  guess 
not.  No;  no  one  '11  suspicion  as  you're  here,  an'  if 
they  do,  what  matter?  You've  done  the  right  thing 
— at  least  I  guess  that's  the  way  you  want  me  to  look 
at  it — an'  you're  all  right.  Berry  lives  here,  an'  they 
say  is  awful  thick  with  your  Christian  worker.  But 
no  matter;  all  the  better  for  my  schemes  when  they 
get  to  workin'  out.  An'  he  couldn't  get  to  see  her 
to  save  his  skin !  She  won't  see  no  one,  nohow,  an' 
he's  too  awful  scared  o'  Davie  these  days  to  go  a-nigh 
the  place.  An'  besides,  it's  as  much  as  he  can  do  to 
fry  his  own  fish.  You  know  as  Berry's  awful  relig 
ious  an'  law-abidin'  down  here ! "  At  this  point  Mrs. 
Johnson  chuckled.  "  But  I'm  layin'  for  him  all 
right !  Now,  my  dearie,  what  you've  got  to  do  is  not 
to  lose  your  grip.  You've  done  better  than  I  could 
have  done  in  your  fix — but  hold  on!  There's  better 
days  a-comin' ;  you  don't  know  tel  you've  tried 
how  good  they  can  be.  An'  there's  work  for 
you  yet — good  work — for  him.  Do  you  hear 
me?" 

"I  don't  intend  to  lose  my  grip,  Johnny,"  Sylvia 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         183 

said,  stoutly.     But  the  eyes  she  raised  to  her  friend 
were  brimming. 

It  was  all  Johnny  could  do  to  refrain  from  clasp 
ing  her  in  her  motherly  arms  and  mingling  her  own 
tears  with  Sylvia's.  But,  like  the  wise  woman  she 
was,  she  did  refrain.  Nevertheless,  she  alarmed  her 
fellow-passengers  by  sobbing  loudly  for  several  min 
utes  after  boarding  the  train.  That  interlude  over, 
she  relapsed  into  meditation,  grim  and  deep. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

IT   has   long   been   an    axiom   accepted   by   the 
majority,  that  the  woman  who  does  not  bemoan 
her  woes  has  none  to  bemoan,  and  Mr.  Atherton 
and  his  good  little  wife  belonged  to  this  class.    Sylvia 
endured  silently  because  to  have  done  otherwise  would 
have  added  humiliation  to  her  grief. 

The  full  import  of  what  she  had  to  bear  dawned 
upon  her  very  slowly ;  not  through  lack  of  sensitive 
ness,  but  through  ignorance  of  life's  hard  conditions. 
A  girl  reared  in  an  exclusive  circle,  in  New  York  or 
elsewhere,  whose  ears  have  never  been  tainted  by 
even  a  whisper  concerning  the  grosser  side  of  life, 
and,  moreover,  whose  closest  and  dearest  companion 
throughout  her  most  impressionable  years  has  been  a 
scholar  and  a  gentleman,  develops  into  a  woman  of 
an  innocence  well-nigh  pristine. 

To  such  as  she  cognisance  of  evil  drifts  gradually, 
almost  imperceptibly;  and  the  realisation  of  this 
knowledge  is,  for  a  time,  worse  than  death.  Yet, 
inconceivable  as  it  may  be,  these  are  the  women  whose 
human  sympathies  often  prove  strong  enough  to 

184 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         185 

override  the  first  repulsion  and  disgust:  it  is  as  if  a 
certain  largeness  of  mind  that  helped  to  keep  them 
for  so  long  pure  of  heart  enables  them  to  understand 
and  forgive. 

What  we  call  Christian  charity  is  often  nothing 
more  than  a  comfortable  dulness.  When  the  hard 
facts  finally  strike  on  the  undeveloped  perceptive  fac 
ulties  of  those  whom  we  falsely  style  charitable,  what 
becomes  of  their  charity?  The  forbearance  which  is 
the  not  infrequent  accompaniment,  whether  trained 
or  inherent,  of  keen  perceptions,  is  in  their  case  con 
spicuous  by  its  absence.  Such  persons  are  unfor 
tunately  not  always  harmlessly  tiresome;  they  have 
a  bad  habit  of  helping  the  sound  dogs  over  the  stile 
and  leaving  the  lame  ones  on  the  wrong  side. 

The  Mexican  population  regarded  Mr.  Atherton 
as  merely  a  harmless  freak.  To  his  exhortations  they 
listened  with  characteristic  courtesy,  thus  causing 
him  to  believe  that  he  was  a  successful  as  well  as  an 
active  worker,  and  they  never  declined  his  little  book 
lets,  or  threw  them  away  until  he  was  out  of  sight. 
The  Mexicans,  however,  being  but  measurably  in 
telligent,  may  be  forgiven  if  they  failed  to  compre 
hend  cste  hombre,  or  were  not  visibly  affected  by  the 
unpleasant  view  he  appeared  to  take  of  their  priests 
and  their  religion  generally.  Therefore,  they  con- 


186         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

tinued  to  go  to  mass  with  their  former  regularity, 
undisturbed  by  the  eloquence  of  the  ministro.  This 
was  well,  perhaps,  for  thus  all  parties  were  satisfied. 

There  were  moments  when  Sylvia's  tolerant  spirit 
actually  permitted  her  to  admire  the  man.  He  was 
so  intensely  in  earnest,  and  believed  in  himself  and 
his  usefulness  so  strongly.  If  he  had  been  caught 
young,  instead  of  having  been  allowed  to  rush,  a  mere 
boy,  pellmell  into  "  Christian  work,"  he  really  might 
have  become  a  power  for  good.  If  he  had  even  been 
instructed  in  consideration  for  others,  and  if  his 
observant  faculties  had  been  ever  so  slightly  trained, 
his  total  want  of  education  (in  the  highest  sense) 
might  have  been  overlooked. 

Mr.  Atherton  was  one  of  those  whose  belief  in  self 
is  unassailable.  Merely  to  affirm  that  he  was  con 
ceited  would  be  but  a  feeble  characterisation  of  his 
spiritual  exaltation.  Many  of  his  type  deem  them 
selves  called  of  God  to  Christian  work,  when  in  truth 
the  "  call "  is  rather  to  the  working  out  of  their  own 
salvation.  Uplifted  by  a  blind,  misdirected  enthu 
siasm,  their  eyes  scorn  the  downward  glance  necessary 
for  the  guidance  of  their  own  stumbling  feet,  tread 
ing  upon,  and  too  often  bruising  unto  death  those  they 
declare  themselves  called  to  save.  It  is  only  the 
ignorant,  the  unobservant,  or  those  who  for  pretence 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         187 

make  long  prayers,  whom  such  men  influence.  Were 
theirs  the  faith  of  the  one  righteous  man,  whose 
righteousness  shines  steady,  silent,  yet  illuminating, 
a  beacon  for  the  guidance  of  the  lonely  struggler, 
then  the  solution  of  certain  problems  might  well 
assume  less  formidable  proportions. 

But  with  men  of  William  Atherton's  pattern,  firm 
believers  in  the  power  of  the  tongue,  such  qualities 
as  steadiness  and  silence  have  no  affinity.  Yet,  let  it 
be  repeated,  these  men  are  good  men — of  a  kind — 
though  it  is  not  to  them  that  men  and  women,  burdened 
with  unspeakable  griefs,  turn,  confident  that  their 
wounds,  if  probed  severely,  will  be  gently  healed. 
Uttering  their  Scriptural  war-cries  and  shibboleths, 
the  Athertons  of  life  stalk  upon  their  way,  heedless 
of  the  deep,  unspoken  anguish  beside  them,  heeding 
only  that  which  strikes  on  their  short-sighted  vision 
in  some  guise  not  to  be  mistaken.  They  concern 
themselves  not  at  all  with  their  sins  of  omission — 
briers  trailing  behind  them  for  the  tripping  of  unac 
customed  feet — which  call  a  sneer  to  the  lips  of  those 
whom  they  glibly  class  with  the  worldly  and  ungodly, 
but  who  are  in  truth  the  unpretentious  Good  Samari 
tans  of  life,  who  drop  out  of  the  procession  to  offer 
the  cup  of  cold  water  to  the  fallen  wayfarer  passed 
unnoticed  by  the  pious  enthusiast. 


188        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

To  the  man  who  is  in  earnest,  no  doubt,  much  is 
forgiven.  We  who  carp  at  the  misguided  zealots  do 
so,  not  because  we  have  never  bowed  the  knee  in  rever 
ence  to  the  noble  and  worthy  "  Christian  worker,"  but 
because  there  are  so  many  "  others,"  forcing  them 
selves  unbidden  into  work  which  needs  not  only  our 
purest  and  our  best,  but  our  wisest,  too,  and  where 
Love  should  be,  must  be,  lord  of  all.  On  the  frontier, 
in  country  districts  remote  from  the  inspirations  of 
the  higher  life,  in  all  dark,  uncertain  byways,  we 
need  them ;  and  yet  of  the  many  claiming  to  be  called 
how  few  are  worthy  to  be  chosen ! 

Between  Mr.  Atherton  and  his  tenant  there  was  so 
little  in  common  that  to  speak  of  our  "common 
humanity"  in  connection  with  the  two  seemed  like  a 
misnomer !  That  she  had  not  permitted  him  to  wrestle 
with  the  Lord  for  her  in  prayer  had  proved  a  serious 
cause  of  offence.  Tolerant  Sylvia  was,  but  she  was 
in  no  mood  to  assist  at  those  frantic  scramblings  upon 
the  footstool  of  the  Almighty,  or  the  noisy  directions 
to  the  All-Wise,  which  pass  with  some  people  for 
prayer. 

More  than  once  she  had  turned  away  heartsick,  on 
hearing  through  the  closed  door  the  strident  tones  of 
her  landlord  storming  over  the  head  of  his  weary, 
overworked  little  wife,  summoning  the  attention,  not 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         189 

only  of  the  Almighty,  but  of  his  long-suffering  and 
adorning  helpmeet,  to  shortcomings  of  which  he  alone 
was  guilty.  Yet  she  doubted  whether  he  had  ever 
spoken  a  rough  word  to  that  wife,  at  least  no  more 
than  was  inevitable  from  the  lips  of  a  rough,  ill-bred 
man.  His  sins  against  her — whom  he  loved  after  his 
own  uncomprehending  fashion,  she  being  of  finer  clay 
than  himself — consisted  mainly  in  a  supreme  egotism, 
and  an  absorption  in  his  "work"  which  rendered 
promises  made  to  her  valueless,  consideration  for 
her  practically  non-existent.  He  was  an  inex 
haustible  chatterbox,  and  indulged  this  trait  to  the 
utmost. 

With  a  crass  brutality,  which  naturally  did  not 
appeal  to  him  as  such,  he  was  addicted  to  improving 
the  occasion  in  regard  to  David's  actions  generally, 
especially  as  they  concerned  his  favourite,  Berry, 
who  was  a  very  acceptable  guest  at  the  Atherton 
establishment.  When  not  at  his  cattle-ranch,  Berry 
made  his  home  with  a  married  son  in  the  Rosalia 
Valley.  He  was  an  ardent  church-member,  and  was 
cordially  hated  by  the  Mexicans.  For  the  first  few 
weeks  of  Sylvia's  stay  in  his  house  Atherton  worked 
more  conscientiously  than  intelligently  to  influence 
her  in  the  latter's  favour;  with  what  object  he  himself 
could  scarcely  have  told,  there  being  no  human  prob- 


190         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

ability  that  Sylvia  ever  again  would  be  in  a  position 
to  influence  David  Kingdon. 

Berry's  project  for  getting  himself  elected  sheriff 
at  the  end  of  Cristol's  term  of  office  appeared  to  be 
greatly  on  the  minister's  mind,  entirely  in  disregard 
of  the  fact  that  Berry  would,  if  elected,  make  the 
worst  officer  that  section  had  ever  known. 

"We  need  God-fearing  church-members  in  public 
office,  Mrs.  Archibald.  I  have  always  been  sur 
prised — "  his  words  went  stumping  along,  pounding 
heartstrings  and  nerves — "  that  your  husband — Mr. 
Kingdon,  I  should  have  said — supported  Mr.  Cristol. 
We  have  unfortunately  so  many  heathen  in  this  be 
nighted  section,  and  the  officer  I  speak  of  is  little 
better  than  an  ordinary  homicide,  Mrs.  Archibald. 
That's  what  he  is!" 

There  was  distinct  venom  in  the  minister's  voice. 
The  obvious  rejoinder,  that,  given  more  adequate 
Christian  workers,  there  would  be  fewer  heathen,  was 
of  course  impossible  of  utterance ;  indeed,  to  any  one 
acquainted  with  actual  conditions  the  whole  exordium 
was  too  ridiculous  to  merit  a  reply. 

But  Mr.  Atherton  was  not  to  be  put  off  so  easily. 

"Did  you  never  reason  with  Mr.  Kingdon  on  the 
subject?"  he  persisted. 

"On  the  subject  of  Mr.  Berry?     Or  of  Mr.  Cris- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         191 

tol?     You  know  the   two  subjects   have  nothing  in 
common." 

Frankly  speaking,  Mr.  Atherton  did  not  like  this 
woman.  The  rack  could  hardly  have  wrung  from  him 
the  acknowledgment  that  she  was  as  a  sealed  book  to 
him — to  him,  a  minister  of  such  wide  and  varied  ex 
perience  of  human  nature!  Nevertheless,  although 
her  tone  was  entirely  serious,  he  was  irritatingly 
conscious  that  her  mental  attitude  toward  him  was 
not  so  decent  or  becoming. 

"  Brother  Berry  is  a  gentleman  whom  we  do  not 
need  to  discuss,"  he  retorted  loftily ;  "  I  am  aware  that 
he  is  not  generally  appreciated,  but — 

"  Your  wife  is  calling  you,  Mr.  Atherton." 

At  the  kitchen  door  stood  the  pale  little  woman : 
holding  in  her  thin  arms  a  washtub  half  filled  with 
water,  and  appealing  in  a  patient  voice  to  the  hus 
band  who  had  faithfully  promised  to  lend  her  his 
brawn  and  muscle  for  an  hour  or  two  that  morning. 
The  morning  was  now  half  gone,  and  he  had  been 
steadily  and  consistently  "  otherwise  engaged." 

"  Coming,  Janie — coming !  "  he  responded  affably, 
but  continued  to  bestow  his  attention  upon  his  tenant. 

Sylvia  motioned  to  Aunt  Julie,  who  went  rather 
sullenly  to  the  assistance  of  Mrs.  Atherton ;  for  the 
old  coloured  woman  hud  reasons  of  her  own  for  abomi- 


192        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

nating  the  husband,  and  often  lay  awake  nights  think 
ing  up  appropriate  "  conjure  tricks."  So  far,  she 
had  not  succeeded  in  selecting  one  suitable  to  the 
emergency. 

"  Since  boyhood,  Mrs.  Archibald,  I  have  devoted 
myself  to  Christian  work.  In  this  community  my 
opportunities  are  sadly  limited,  and  I  know  by  melan 
choly  experience  how  hard  is  the  lot  of  God-fearing 
persons  in  this  far  West.  Yet  I  am  of  the  opinion 
that  the  presence  of  an  earnest  church-member  might 
have  averted  that  bloody  affray  in  Kingdon  Canon." 

"  You  were  not  present,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  No,  I  was  not.  Would  that  I  had  been !  The 
result,  I  venture  to  affirm,  would  have  been  very  dif 
ferent  if  I  had.  Mrs.  Archibald — "  suddenly — "  you 
I  understand,  are  not  a  church-member.  May  I  not 
urge  upon  you  the  importance  of  making  good  use  of 
this  necessary  period  of  retirement?  Will  you  not 
devote  it  to  self-communion  and  prayer,  and  join  the 
church  of  which  I  am  the  humble  representative  ?  " 

There  was  a  perceptible  pause.  "  I  am  an  Episco 
palian,"  rejoined  Sylvia,  coldly. 

Against  Sylvia's  coldness  there  never  was,  never 
had  been  when  she  choose  to  resort  to  it,  any  appeal. 
Hers  was  a  natural  hauteur  rarely  coming  to  the 
surface,  but,  when  visible,  omnipotent. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         193 

Thick-skinned  as  he  was,  it  pierced  even  Mr.  Ather- 
ton's  hide.  Hastily  muttering  that  he  had  a  hard 
day's  work  before  him,  he  hurried'  away,  calling  to 
"  Janie  "  that  he  would  be  back  in  half  an  hour. 

The  blue  and  gold  of  the  fall  gradually  changed 
to  the  blue  and  drab  of  winter.  Day  by  day  the  sun 
lost  a  little  of  its  intensity,  ice  showed  itself  in  the 
water  buckets  later  and  later  in  the  mornings,  the 
dazzling  gold  of  the  cottonwood  leaves  faded  as  they 
clung,  the  pure  ivory  of  mistletoe  berries  grew  clear 
upon  the  gorgeous  radiance  of  the  azure  sky.  And 
Sylvia  was  again  mistress  of  herself.  To  say  that 
she  never  faltered  or  fell  would  have  been  to  say  that 
she  was  free  from  mortal  weakness ;  but  it  was  seldom 
that  she  lost  her  grip.  That  unreasoning,  though 
not  unnatural,  spasm  of  jealousy  had  long  since  passed 
away.  She  resolutely  tore  her  thoughts  from  the  past 
— away  from  David — except  when  'she  could  think  of 
him  with  the  comfort  brought  by  the  knowledge  of 
his  courage  and  steadfastness;  for  of  these  Johnny 
took  care  that  she  should  know. 

No  stronger  incentive  to  self-mastery  could  be  sup 
plied  to  Sylvia  than  the  consciousness  of  a  growing 
life  within  her  own,  on  whom  it  was  her  duty,  as  also 
her  pleasure,  to  bestow  the  best  both  physically  and 
mentally  that  the  mother  may.  To  this  end  she 


194         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

fought  against  her  own  yearning,  human  self.  She 
read  and  studied  and  painted.  Sing  she  could  not; 
there  was  too  much  of  David  there ;  but  she  took  up 
Greek  again,  which  she  had  read  to  some  extent  with 
her  father,  and  in  the  tense  exercise  of  brain  forgot 
for  a  while  the  constant  moaning  of  the  heart.  But 
there  were  hours  when  the  utmost  strength  of  which 
she  was  capable  did  not  suffice. 

She  secured  a  buggy,  and  drove  daily.  It  was  the 
last  of  November  now,  and  the  day  or  two  of  wet  or 
showery  weather  almost  certain  during  that  month 
had  descended  like  a  short-lived  frown  upon  the 
splendour  of  nature's  rarely  failing  smile.  Sylvia 
was  in  tune  with  the  passing  gloom.  It  was  Sunday, 
and  Aunt  Julie  had  departed  the  previous  morning 
for  Mendoza  City,  in  order  to  do  some  shopping  for 
her  mistress  and  to  attend  the  coloured  church. 
Sylvia,  therefore,  was  alone.  The  past  night  had 
been  a  hard  one.  Mrs.  Atherton,  to  whom  she  had 
shown  many  of  the  trifling  kindnesses  which  pass 
almost  as  a  matter  of  course  between  women,  knew  of 
her  indisposition,  but  had  hurried  off  to  church  in 
the  morning  without  even  looking  in  to  see  how  the 
sick  tenant  fared. 

The  squally,  gusty  day  was  departing  over  the 
mountains  with  treachery  in  its  black  heart;  but  it 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         195 

left  its  trail  behind,  like  a  frowning  brow  shading  an 
eye  of  mild,  effulgent  azure.  Upon  this  quiet  azurine 
background,  cottonwoods,  which  so  far  had  escaped 
the  frost,  burned  warmly,  apparently  oblivious  that 
the  sun  had  forsaken  them. 

Sylvia  held  the  reins  loosely  in  her  right  hand ;  the 
other  was  lying  palm  upward  on  the  seat  beside  her. 
Her  whole  attitude  was  the  epitome  of  surrender, 
which,  when  beheld  in  the  strong  and  brave — or  in 
those  whom  we  superficially  term  such,  ignoring 
the  magnitude  of  the  endeavour  underlying  these 
appearances — is  beyond  measure  pitiful.  The  Cry 
of  the  Human  which  had  beaten  from  within  against 
closed  doors  was  fighting  now  for  utterance — fighting 
as  it  had  seldom  fought  before.  It  was  not  faltering 
words,  or  the  tears  that  fell  helplessly,  which  marked 
the  tragic  element  ever  present  in  lonely,  unshared 
grief.  It  was  the  attitude — despair,  defeat,  helpless 
ness — everything  that  was  at  variance  with  the 
woman's  normal  aspect. 

There  was  only  one  observer,  however,  and  that  was 
the  Boy,  and  even  he  gradually  came  to  understand 
that  something  was  very  wrong.  Flirting,  after  his 
manner,  with  every  puddle  of  water  or  stray  cornstalk 
in  his  path,  he  met  with  no  tightened  rein  or  word  of 
reproof;  he  carried  the  buggy  how  and  whither  he 


196        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

would.  Several  times  he  rolled  his  full,  dark  eye 
back  at  his  mistress  in  questioning  astonishment,  and 
then  proceeded  gently  and  ever  more  gently  on  his 
way. 

Sylvia  had  not  demanded  sympathy  of  those  who 
dwelt  under  the  same  roof;  she  had  been  rather  too 
little  than  too  much  exacting.  And  yet 

Presently  she  sat  up  and  grasped  the  reins  firmly. 
She  was  ashamed — yes,  ashamed.  Did  ever  lonely 
woman  have  better,  warmer  friends  than  she? 

When  she  drove  briskly  at  twilight  to  her  own  door, 
Aunt  Julie  came  out  to  meet  her,  and  said  myster 
iously,  "  Dick  in  dar,  waitin'  on  you." 

The  Mexican  boy  took  the  horse,  and  in  a  moment 
Sylvia  was  face  to  face  with  David's  foreman.  He 
took  her  offered  hand  simply ;  explained  in  his  awk 
ward  yet  straightforward  way  how  he  came  to  be 
there.  He  had  not  known  exactly  where  she  had 
hidden  herself.  As  the  boss  never  mentioned  her 
name — perhaps  he  did  not  know  either  where  she  was  ? 
He  had  been  sent  with  a  message  to  Berry.  But  he 
had  more  to  say. 

"Mrs.  Kingdon — you  don't  lay  no  objections 
against  me  callin'  you  that,  do  you? — becaz  I  don't 
know  as  I  can  do  better,  you  bein'  sure  enough  the 
wife  of  the  boss,  as  /  look  at  it." 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         197 

Simple-hearted  Dick  was  flaying  the  wife  of  the 
boss  alive,  had  he  only  known  it;  but  there  are  so 
many  things  that  are  not  revealed  unto  babes.  Her 
face  was  averted,  and  it  was  only  after  a  rather  pro 
longed  silence  that  she  answered  in  a  low — very  low — 
voice, 

"Thank  you,  Dick." 

And  then,  feeling  the  absolute  necessity  of  a 
greater  expansiveness  toward  this  naive  yet  shrewd 
soul,  she  added  with  difficulty: 

"You  are  right — in  a  way.  I  thought — we  both 
thought — I  was  his  lawful  wife.  But  we  were  mis 
taken.  I  must  be  Mrs.  Archibald  now." 

"Yes,  I  knew  as  it  was  all  square  with  you  two. 
Don't  necessitate  any  tellin'  to  me ;  but  the  boss,  you 
know,  he's  got  an  awful  close  mouth — too  close  some 
times,  maybe.  She " — jerking  his  head  over  his 
shoulder — "  she  wa'n't  drowned,  and  you  thought  as 
she  was,  that's  about  the  size  of  it.  A  darned  sight 
better  if  she  had  bin,"  he  muttered ;  "  she  never  wa'n't 
no  good  for  him;  didn't  so  much  as  know  on  which 
end  of  a  horse  to  throw  a  rope!" 

Sylvia  was  obliged  to  smile;  the  picture  conjured 
up  of  the  proper  sort  of  wife  for  David  was  irresisti 
ble.  Dick  saw  the  tiny  flicker  pass  across  the  sad 
face,  and  was  at  once  encouraged  and  apologetic. 


198         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  Not  as  I  mean  as  that's  all  a  woman  ought  to  know 
to  be  wife  to  the  boss.  She's  got  to  know  a  heap 
more'n  that — as  much  as  you  do,  and  they  do  tell  as 
you're  awful  smart  at  the  books,"  looking  at  her 
questioningly. 

Thus  they  talked,  Sylvia  asking  nothing,  and  he 
avoiding  with  tact  born  of  good-feeling  all  informa 
tion  of  a  personal  nature,  but  relating  the  story  of 
ranch  matters,  the  Berry  trouble — which  he  rightly 
guessed  would  interest  her — and  things  of  a  like 
nature.  When  at  last  he  reluctantly  rose  to  go,  it 
was  with  a  new  understanding  of  the  situation;  he 
saw  now  why  the  boss  had  been  so  painfully — per 
haps  unjustly,  as  regarded  himself,  Dick — uncom 
municative. 

"A  mighty  bad  business!"  he  ejaculated,  softly, 
as  he  closed  the  door  of  Sylvia's  room  as  if  a  sick  or 
dying  person  lay  therein. 

But  Dick  was  not  to  get  off  so  easily;  there  is 
always  the  curiosity  of  the  unemployed  to  be 
reckoned  with.  A  door  at  the  end  of  the  long  hall 
opened,  and  Mr.  Atherton's  figure  appeared. 

"  Kindly  step  this  way  a  minute,  Mr. " 

"You  must  excuse  me,  sir,  but  I  dunno  as  I  can 
to-day.  I'm  rushed  for  time." 

Nevertheless,  Mr.  Atherton  was,  in  less  than  three 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         199 

minutes,  closeted  with  the  impatient  Dick.  The 
latter,  it  must  be  confessed,  kept  his  hat  on — Mrs. 
Atherton  was  not  present — and  stood  restively  switch 
ing  his  legs  with  the  quirt  he  held  in  his  hand.  Dick 
was  not  good  at  the  fence,  but  he  knew  how  to  hold  his 
tongue  when  it  was  a  case  of  betraying  confidence. 
The  minister  could  make  nothing  of  the  cowboy,  and 
failure  no  doubt  prompted  the  malice  of  his  next 
remark : 

"  In  regard  to  the  person  under  my  roof,  it  is  not 
an  association  I  would  have  chosen  for  my  little  wife. 
Not  that  the  woman  is  exactly  to  blame.  I  guess  she 
did  the  best  she  knew  how  without  Christian  teaching 
and  guidance.  Still,  as  regards  Mrs.  Atherton,  in 
Christian  work  husband  and  wife  must  encounter  the 
same  associations,  hand  in  hand " 

Dick  was  a  good-natured  fellow,  but  he  claimed, 
with  an  air  of  truthfulness  which  caused  his  statement 
to  be  rather  hurriedly  accepted,  that  there  were  some 
things  he  would  not  take  from  any  living  man.  This 
was  one.  He  came  close  to  Mr.  Atherton,  and  seized 
him  by  the  lapel  of  his  coat. 

"  Look'ee  here,"  he  said  slowly,  his  blue  eyes  gleam 
ing  dangerously,  "  if  you  was  anythin'  but  what  you 
is — one  as  takes  advantage  of  bein'  considered  half 
a  female — I'd  pull  my  gun  an'  punch  you  full  o' 


200        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

holes !  Don't  you  never  dare  to  talk  that  way  again 
concernin'  the  wife  o'  the  boss!  If  you  do,  an'  it's 
so  as  it  comes  around  to  me,  I  may  have  to  learn  you 
somethin'  yet." 

Dick  loosed  his  hold  so  suddenly  that  the  poor  man 
staggered.  Then,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  marched 
away,  with  a  clank  of  spurs. 


CHAPTER     XVII 

THE  earth  was  as  the  heart  of  a  golden  cup, 
red  with  the  dregs  of  new  wine.  The  track 
clove  the  ripe  wheat  as  a  lance  piercing  the 
glowing  embers  of  the  sunset.  Other  light  there 
was  none,  for  the  June  day  was  over ;  only  in  the 
red  of  the  wheat  and  of  the  sky,  and  in  the  profound 
azure  of  the  mountains,  its  warm  memory  lingered. 

Across  the  tranquil  meadows,  where  the  purple 
heads  of  the  alfalfa  drooped  in  their  cradles  of  green, 
came  the  rumble  of  home-going  wagons,  or  the  weird 
cry  of  the  Mexican  urging  his  weary  flock  to  the 
trampling  of  the  outspread  sheaves. 

Upon  the  bank  of  the  high  acequla  sat  Sylvia,  her 
four-months-old  baby  sleeping  on  her  knee.  There 
was  a  peace  in  her  face  that  had  not  been  visible  for 
many  a  long  day  before  the  filling  of  her  empty 
arms;  yet  a  deep  sadness  was  there  also.  Her  gaze, 
no  longer  bent  over  the  child,  wandered,  dreamy  and 
pensive,  over  the  now  familiar  scene. 

"  He  do  favour  his  pa  mightily  ?  "  the  old  woman 

201 


202        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

moaned,  on  an  average  twice  a  week;  "I  don'  see's 
how  you'se  ever  in  dis  worl'  gwine  tell  dat  boy.  No, 
Miss  Sylvia!" 

There  was  another  cause  for  the  thoughtful  sad 
ness  in  Sylvia's  face,  as  she  arose  and  proceeded 
slowly  homeward.  She  lived  in  a  small  rented  house 
now,  alone  with  the  child  and  servant.  The  full 
knowledge  of  her  position  had  at  last  arrived.  Hints, 
and  the  amiable  patronage  of  well-meaning  persons, 
had  opened  her  eyes  wide. 

The  child,  to  whose  advent  her  bereaved  heart  had 
looked  forward  with  a  hunger  of  yearning  it  had 
been  vain  for  her  by  any  argument  to  repress,  she 
did  not  regard  as  a  misfortune.  The  mixture  of  com 
mon  sense  and  purity  characteristic  of  Sylvia  could 
see  nothing  either  evil  or  guiltily  embarrassing  in  the 
possession  of  her  one  treasure.  To  her  unwordly  yet 
logical  mind  the  situation  was  as  simple  as  it  was 
tragic.  When  the  child  grew  old  enough  to  under 
stand,  she  would  say :  "  You  have  no  father,  for  the 
reason  that  when  I  married  him  we  both  believed  his 
former  wife  to  be  dead.  When  we  discovered  that  she 
was  alive,  we  parted,  and  he  went  back  to  her.  No 
sin  attaches  to  us,  no  shame  to  you." 

How  simple!  So  had  it  appeared  to  her;  now  she 
was  doubting. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        203 

The  house  was  empty ;  Julie  had  gone  to  the  store. 
Sylvia  laid  the  baby  down  on  the  bed,  and  stead 
fastly  regarded  him.  There  were  times  when,  young 
as  he  was,  his  resemblance  to  his  father  struck  her 
lu-art  like  a  blow — when  he  looked  at  her  appealingly 
with  that  father's  expression,  though  out  of  eyes  that 
were  her  own,  or  drooped  his  pretty  lips  and  hung  his 
head  in  baby  grief.  Those  were  the  times  when  the 
mother  thought  she  must  go  mad;  when  she  doubted 
not  merely  the  righteousness  of  her  deed,  but  the 
righteousness,  nay,  the  very  existence,  of  a  God  who 
could  demand  so  supreme  a  sacrifice. 

She  had  not  even  written  her  mother  or  sisters  of 
the  baby;  to  expect  them  to  rejoice  with  her  would 
have  been  absurd  and  unreasonable.  But  she  had 
written  to  Buckley ;  and  even  as  her  mind  reverted  to 
him,  Aunt  Julie  entered  with  the  mail,  and  in  it  was 
a  letter  from  the  man  himself.  Sylvia  coloured  with 
pleasure  as  she  read.  Buckley  was  an  excellent 
correspondent.  The  present  effusion  concluded 
thus: 

"I'm  that  young  one's  godfather,  so  don't  go  hir 
ing  any  one  else,  or  I'm  done  with  you  forever.  I 
shall  be  down  after  a  while;  I  guess  he  will  keep  till 
I  come." 

She  would  wait  then,  for  Buckley.  Besides,  Johnny 


204        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

was  of  the  opinion  that,  in  the  fight  for  sheriff  which 
was  to  take  place  that  fall,  some  good  might  arise 
from  Sylvia's  neighbourhood  to  the  arch-enemy.  In 
such  relentless  struggles,  devoid  as  these  were  of  both 
honour  and  principle,  no  one  could  foretell  what 
might  happen.  And  even  as  these  ideas  crossed  Syl 
via's  mind — the  old  coloured  woman  had  undressed 
the  still  sleeping  child  and  laid  him  in  his  cradle — 
there  came  a  stumping  up  the  steps  of  the  porch,  and 
Johnny  walked  in  through  the  screen-door. 

"  Here  I  am,  my  dearie,  missed  the  mail  wagon,  of 
course,  a-chatterinj  like  an  id  jit  to  a  feller  as  got  off 
with  me!  Dear  knows  what  I'd  ha'  done  if  the  sun 
had  been  a-shinin',  but  lucky  for  me  the  train  was 
awful  late.  How's  the  blessed  lamb  ?  " 

Scarcely  waiting  for  Sylvia's  reply,  Johnny  pro 
ceeded  to  inspect  her  idol  in  the  inner  room. 

"What  a  picture!"  she  sighed,  ecstatically;  which 
was  true  enough,  partiality  apart.  The  downy, 
brown  head  on  the  pillow,  the  long  dark  lashes  on  the 
soft  cheek,  the  limbs  of  a  cherub — a  picture  little 
Davie  was. 

"I  must  kiss  him  if  I  die  for  it!"  whispered 
Johnny. 

Then,  raising  herself,  she  looked  earnestly  at 
Sylvia  in  the  light  of  the  full  moon. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        205 

"  How  do  you  bear  it  ?  "  she  asked,  still  whispering. 
"Or  do  it  help  you  any?" 

The  eyes  of  the  two  women  met;  no  more  was 
said. 

On  the  porch,  after  supper,  Johnny  found  it  easy 
to  glide  into  the  subject  which,  next  to  little  David, 
principally  occupied  her  mind.  "  There'll  be  a  heap 
a-goin'  on  down  here  in  regards  to  the  election,"  she 
said,  her  keen  eyes  roving  to  the  store  a  few  hundred 
yards  away,  around  which  a  number  of  men,  Mexi 
cans  chiefly,  hung.  "  Without  no  spyin'  you  can 
serve  him  an'  his  friends,  maybe.  Berry's  a  fool  if  he 
don't  suspicion  that  there'll  be  Cain  raised  over  this 
election.  There's  a  lot  knows  too  much  about  his 
dirty,  low-down  tricks ;  but  the  religious  crowd's  got 
him  an'  turned  his  fool  head.  He  won't  touch  the 
ground  oncet,"  she  added,  with  her  low,  chuckling 
laugh,  "  soon's  our  Davie  gits  a-goin'  for  him. 
There's  old  scores  to  pay ;  and  besides,  Davie's  got  a 
sore  heart,  an'  that  causes  a  man  to  act  quick  and 
rash." 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  Sylvia  said,  speaking 
with  difficulty,  "Tell  me,  is  it  any  easier  for  him 
than  it  used  to  be?" 

"At  home?  Well,  it's  some  better'n  'twas — in  a 
way."  Johnny  dropped  her  already  lowered  tones. 


206        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  She  don't  nag  same  as  she  did  in  former  times ; 
don't  take  enough  interest  to  nag,  I  guess.  It's  my 
belief  " — a  note  of  intense  bitterness  betraying  itself 
— "as  she  only  come  back  to  get  a  good  home  an' 
plenty  o'  money  to  get  well  with ! " 

The  other  woman  shook  her  head.  "No,  Johnny. 
She  cared  for  him,  and  was  sorry  because  of  the 
past." 

"Very  well,  that's  what  you  think,  and  you've 
mostly  got  it  down  right,  I  will  say." 

There  was  another  silence.  Then  Sylvia  rose  to 
her  feet,  and  her  face  was  pale  in  the  moonlight. 

"  Johnny ! " 

"What  is  it,  my  dearie?" 

Sylvia  put  her  hand  to  her  throat;  speech  seemed 
to  have  stuck  there. 

A  light  flashed  upon  the  older  woman.  "  Now," 
she  cried  under  her  breath,  "you're  worryin',  and  I 
know  what  it's  about!  There's  no  manner  of  use  in 
worryin',  an'  there's  no  call  to,  neither.  He  ain't 
took  the  disease,  nor  never  will;  he  ain't  that  kind. 
The  doctors  may  talk  all  they've  a  mind  to;  you've 
got  to  be  the  right  kind  to  ketch  it,  and  he  ain't  that 
kind,  I  tell  you!  And  lungers — I've  waited  on  dead 
loads  of  'em ;  they  come  up  to  the  mountains  an' 
camps  out — is  more  selfish  than  other  kinds  o'  sick 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH         207 

folks,  generally  speakin'.  It's  a  poor  few  on  'em  as 
cares  whether  it's  so  as  they  give  their  disease  to 
others  or  not ;  so  I  say,  if  it's  so  awful  ketchin',  why 
don't  most  every  one  take  it  hereabouts  ?  " 

"  But  those  who  are  so  much  together,"  fal 
tered  Sylvia,  but  half  reassured — "husbands  and 
wives " 

"Yes,  they  takes  it  oncet  in  a  while,  I  don't  deny. 
But,  dearie,  he  ain't  so  awful  much  with  her,  nohow; 
t'ain't  as  it  was  with  him  an'  you.  He's  off  a  heap — 
sort  of  obligated  to  be,  on  account  of  her  stayin'  all 
the  time  at  one  place,  an'  then  this  election.  And 
then  she  lives  to  herself  in  a  tent,  winter  and  sum 
mer — some  foolishness  of  her  Eastern  doctor.  This 
blazin'  weather  too !  An'  when  she  calls  upon  him 
an'  he's  around,  he  waits  on  her,  takes  her  buggy- 
ridin',  or  plays  cards  with  her  in  that  old  tent  when 
she  ain't  skeered  o'  raisin'  temperature  wi'  th'  egg- 
zitement." 

Again  Johnny  sighed;  then,  after  a  brief  pause, 
added  briskly :  "  I  can  tell  you  as  it  ain't  no  slouch- 
work,  runnin'  a  house  for  lungers,  either.  I  has  a 
friend  as  does  it,  an'  I've  been  there  to  help — nursin' 
and  sech  like.  Th'  ain't  no  livin'  person  as  could 
make  the  most  of  'em  anyways  contented,  savin'  as  it 
might  be  one  o'  them  old-timey  gods  as  Ted  reads  out 


208        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

to  me  of  oncet  in  a  while  from  his  school-readers; 
gardens  o'  Hespreedies,  or  some  sech  a  place,  might 
suit  'em,  maybe.  Mat,  my  friend,  's  an  awful  silent 
chap;  don't  open  his  head  unless  it's  so  be  as  he  has 
to;  an'  that's  all  right.  Talkin'  'em  smooth  all  the 
time  don't  do  'em  no  good;  he  'tends  to  his  business, 
an'  treats  'em  right,  an'  that's  all  there  is  to  Mat. 
When  the  sun  shines  day  in  an'  day  out,  then  it's: 
'Dear  Mrs.  Johnson,  do  you  never  have  any  clouds  in 
the  sky?  It  would  seem  like  home  to  see  them  some 
times  ! '  An'  when  a  shower  o'  rain,  or  two-three  ugly- 
appearin'  days  comes  along :  '  How  long  does  it  stay 
cloudy  in  this  section,  Mrs.  Johnson?'  Or  along 
comes  a  wind,  an'  course  the  dust  gits  a-blowin'. 
Then  it's :  *  Oh,  this  terrible  dust !  If  only  a  shower 
of  rain  would  come  and  lay  it!'  To  all  o'  which  talk 
I  says  quiet  and  even,  'I  ain't  no  weather-burro,' 
says  I.  Was  a  time  when  I'd  try  an'  calm  'em  down ; 
put  myself  out  no  end,  a-talkin'  to  'em ;  but  I've  quit 
sech  fool-talk  now;  for  if  it  ain't  one  thing  with 
health-seekers,  it  '11  be  another.  I'd  ask  'em  why  in 
the  name  o'  gracious  they  come  to  a  dry  country  if  so 
be  as  they  leans  to  a  wet  one;  an'  whether,  with  all 
their  education,  they  ain't  never  been  learned  as  winds 
has  got  to  blow  oncet  in  a  while  in  these  high  parts ; 
an'  what  for  they  kick  at  rain  when  it  do  come  along ; 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         209 

an'  all  kinds  of  fool-argufyin'  with  'em.  But  I'm 
done  now.  My  breath  ain't  give  me  to  waste  it  on 
health-seekers  as  ain't  got  no  sense ! " 

"Now,  Johnny,"  exposulated  Sylvia,  "didn't  you 
tell  me  once  of  lovely  health-seekers  you  had  known  ?  " 

"  That's  so,  my  dear.  I  don't  deny  it !  But  then 
there's  dead  loads  o'  lungers,  an'  not  many  angels 
among  'em." 

She  paused ;  then  continued  reflectively :  "  There's 
one  thing  as  I'd  like  awful  well  to  know.  I  ain't  one 
o'  the  pious  kind,  no  loud-prof essin'  Christian,  but  I 
say  as  there's  either  a  God  as  knows  what  is  best  for 
us,  or  there  ain't  no  God  at  all — it's  up  to  us  to 
choose.  But  if  we  believe  as  there  is  a  God,  there 
ain't  no  sense,  so  far's  I  can  see,  in  murmurin'  at  Him 
all  the  time.  We  got  to  give  in  easy  if  He  do  know 
best.  But  along  comes  all  these  sick,  or  half-sick 
folks,  many  of  'em  professin'  Christians,  an'  it's  one 
everlastin',  endurin'  kick!  They  talk  an'  act  as  if 
God  hadn't  got  a  mite  o'  sense  or  jedgment;  an'  yet 
they'd  be  terrible  shocked  if  so  be  as  I  was  to  set  it  up 
to  them  as  they're  the  same  as  unbaptised  heathen, 
and  a  heap  worse  than  lots  o'  white  folks  as  I've 
known  who  has  never  set  foot  inside  of  a  church  door 
sence  the  time  as  they  was  kids.  Then  if  one  acts 
right — tryin'  awful  hard,  you  bet! — the  others  all 


210        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

cries  out,  'What  a  mercy  to  be  blessed  with  a  cheer 
ful,  easy-goin'  disposition!' — an'  sighs  an'  grunts 
an'  wishes  as  they  had  the  same.  But  they  don't  never 
think  as  him  or  her  they're  makin'  out  to  envy  is  tryin' 
all  they  knows  how  to  be  unselfish  an'  not  worry  others 
with  their  own  griefs  and  aches." 

"It's  hard  on  all  lungers,  Johnny." 

"  I  don't  deny  it !  All  I  claim  is  that  they're  lots  o' 
things  as  bad  an'  worse,  an'  why  lungers  should  be 
different  to  other  sick  folks,  an'  claim  sech  a  heap  o' 
privileges,  beats  me  to  say." 

"'I  have  learned  in  whatsoever  state  I  am  there 
with  to  be  content,'  "  murmured  Sylvia,  dreamily. 

"  Learned — yes,  that's  about  the  size  of  it ! "  ej  acu- 
lated  Johnny.  "Now  you  got  'em!  Them  as  learns 
to  be  patient  an'  content — an'  there's  some  of  'em  as 
does — ain't  got  no  more  showin'  from  the  others  than 
a  fiddler  in  purgatory!  Them  others  knows  it  all; 
ihey  ain't  got  a  thing  to  learn ! " 

When  the  eloquent  speaker  resumed,  the  sarcasm 
had  gone  out  of  her  voice.  "  Do  you  think  as  lie  has 
found  out  where  you  is?"  she  said,  gently.  "You 
see,  David  ain't  one  as  would  ask  questions,  even  o' 
me,  if  it  was  so  as  you  didn't  wish  it." 

"I  didn't  tell  him  where  I  was  going,"  replied 
Sylvia,  in  a  low  tone,  "because  I  thought  it  was  best 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        211 

for  us  both  that  he  should  not  know,  and  " — she  hesi 
tated — "I  didn't  tell  him  about  little  Davie  coming, 
because " 

"  Because  as  you  knew  he'd  never  ha'  let  you  go 
from  him  if  he'd  known,"  put  in  Johnny,  quickly. 
"  Yes,  my  dearie,  I  guess  it  was  all  right  for  you  to 
do,  but  it's  mighty  hard,  an'  ain't  a-goin'  to  get  much 
easier.  An'  Davie — how  he'd  ha'  loved  to  have  had  a 
young  one  of  his  own !  " 

Johnny  caught  the  slender  hand,  uplifted  as  though 
to  ward  off  a  blow,  and  clasped  it  penitently  to  her 
broad  bosom.  It  was  not  often  she  thus  turned  the 
sword  in  the  wound. 

"Don't  you  worry  no  more  where  there  ain?t  no 
need ! "  she  added,  tenderly  ;  "  Davie  wa'n't  born  to  be 
a  lunger ! " 

Two  months  had  slipped  away  since  Johnny's  brief 
visit.  It  was  the  close  of  a  hot  August  day.  Sylvia 
had  sent  Aunt  Julie  and  the  baby  to  the  banks  of  the 
big  acequia  in  a  cotton  wood  grove  about  half  a  mile 
distant,  for  the  sake  of  the  coolness  ever  to  be  found 
beside  running  water,  and  now  anxiously  awaited 
their  return ;  for  a  tremendous  storm  was  threatening. 
She  supposed  that  the  branches  of  the  trees  hid  the 
clouds,  or  else  that  the  old  woman,  fearful  that  she 
might  not  be  able  to  reach  home  before  the  bursting 


212        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

of  the  storm,  or  rather  of  the  terrific  wind  sure  to  pre 
cede  it,  had  taken  shelter  in  one  of  the  small  adobe 
houses  close  at  hand.  Sylvia  chided  herself  for  feel 
ing  anxious;  there  was  absolutely  no  cause  for 
anxiety,  with  Aunt  Julie  in  command;  nevertheless, 
her  heart  beat  with  dread  of  she  knew  not  what. 

There  was  indeed  something  horrible  in  the  silent 
march  of  that  inky  wall  of  cloud.  Slow  it  might  be, 
but  it  was  relentless  beyond  all  power  of  words  to  de 
scribe.  Involuntarily  the  mind  of  the  solitary  watcher 
reverted  to  the  dungeon  of  old,  closing  in  hour  by 
hour  upon  the  prisoner  with  intent  to  crush  out  his 
life.  The  craggy  peaks,  threatening  at  first,  soon 
became  trivial,  and  ere  long  were  entirely  extinguished 
by  the  greater  and  more  terrible  force  above  and 
behind. 

Then  across  the  sinister  face  of  that  wall  began  to 
spread  and  soar  a  pale  brown  mist ;  yet  a  little  while, 
and  the  line  of  the  distant  mesa  was  broken  and  split 
up  into  whirling  pillars  of  the  same  brownish  hue. 
Far  away  as  yet,  the  sound  as  of  a  mighty  rushing 
river  struck  upon  the  listening  ear — louder,  nearer, 
more  significant  with  every  fleeting  moment — the 
great  desert  wind,  rousing  the  sand  from  its  long, 
warm  sleep  and  driving  it  pitilessly  southward,  down 
— down — into  the  green  peace  of  the  valley.  The 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        213 

cottonwoods  shivered;  the  lark's  timid,  intermittent 
call  was  heard  no  more. 

The  tension  of  suspense  snapped.  With  a  leap  and 
a  roar  the  sombre,  lightning- jagged  wall  fell  upon 
the  land.  Following  on  the  awful  silence  and  the  on 
slaught  of  sound,  came  the  rain — at  first  as  deafening 
and  terrific  as  the  sandstorm  itself,  then  beating  down 
the  wind  and  dominating  it  until,  almost  instantly, 
the  water  stood  in  pools  around  the  house,  or  raced 
under  ill-fitting  doors,  or  probed  with  insistent  finger 
the  flat  adobe  roof.  The  seething  cataracts  were 
slashed  fantastically  with  knives  of  steely  blue,  the 
thunder  rattled  and  growled,  but  the  worst  was  over; 
and  soon  a  gleam  from  the  western  sky  turned  the 
rain-torrents  to  rose,  and  this  was  the  beginning  of 
the  end. 

But  it  is  a  misnomer  to  call  these  awful  exhibitions 
of  nature  "  passing  storms."  For  hours  after  the 
rush  and  roar  are  spent  the  earth  and  sky  are  as  the 
human  heart  which  has  been  shaken  to  its  depths.  The 
shrouded  moon,  the  uncertain  stars,  sobbing  gusts  out 
of  the  wet  north,  quivering  trees  and  trembling  earth, 
all  voice  the  plaint  of  unassuaged  and  unregarded 
pain. 

Shaken  herself,  oppressed  not  only  with  anxiety, 
however  unreasonable,  but  with  that  nameless  sense  of 


214         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

loneliness  that  a  storm  endured  with  no  human  being 
within  sight  or  sound  can  scarcely  fail  to  produce  on 
the  impressionable,  Sylvia  opened  the  door  of  her 
house  and  stepped  upon  the  dripping  porch.  Flying 
across  the  open  space  toward  her,  came  the  tall  figure 
of  a  man,  clasping  a  bundle  to  his  breast.  The  man 
was  Dick. 

"Here  we  are!" — leaping  up  the  steps  with  a 
bound  that  set  the  whole  porch  shuddering.  "  Here 
we  are — boy  and  all,  safe  and  sound." 

He  dashed  on  into  the  sitting-room,  carefully 
unwrapped  his  bundle,  and  revealed  little  Davie — dry 
and  smiling,  and  holding  out  his  arms  to  his  mother. 

For  a  moment  Sylvia  could  not  speak  for  fear  of 
falling  tears.  Aunt  Julie,  fat  and  waddling,  entered 
almost  at  once.  Explanations  followed,  descriptions 
of  the  warm  and  dry  shelter  to  which  Dick,  happening 
along,  had  carried  them.  Then  the  old  woman  bore 
away  the  child,  and  Sylvia  turned  smiling  to  her 
visitor. 

"  It's  nice  to  see  you,  Dick !  Is  it  the  Berry  busi 
ness  again  ?  " 

Dick  looked  shamed-f  aced,  then  answered  sturdily : 

"No,  Mrs.  Kingdon — not  this  day.  I  jes'  took  a 
notion  to  see  how  you  was  gettin'  along,  an'  saddled 
up,  an'  here  I  am.  Say,  I've  been  puttin'  in  a  rattlin' 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        215 

good  time  with  that  young  one ! "  he  proceeded,  con 
fidentially.  "Ain't  he  great,  though?  It's  durned 

tough  as "  He  pulled  himself  up  short;  then 

started  again,  "  If  he  ain't  the  very  spit  and  moral 

of "  tripped  again,  took  breath  and  forged  ahead 

once  more.  "  Seems  like  it's  awful  queer  in  Mrs. 
Johnson  not  to  let  on  about  the  kid ;  an'  I  was  up  to 
her  place,  it  wa'n't  a  week  since." 

He  tipped  his  hat  over  his  brows,  and  scratched  the 
back  of  his  head  ruminatingly.  "Ain't  it  queer  to 
you,  Mrs.  Kingdon?" 

Sylvia  smiled  a  sad,  small  smile.  "  No,  Dick. 
Mrs.  Johnson  knows  what  is  best." 

"Well,  maybe  so!  But  you  bet  I'm  goin'  to  get 
after  her  about  layin'  so  low  in  regards  to  the  young 
one ;  it  don't  matter  about  tellin'  me,  nohow." 

"It's  all  right  so  far  as  you  are  concerned,  Dick, 
but  stick  to  what  she  says." 

"I  will  so!"  rejoined  the  cow-puncher,  crunching 
Sylvia's  slender  fingers  in  his  powerful  grasp.  "  Well, 
so-long,  Mrs.  Kingdon !  It's  awful  late.  Guess  I'll 
have  to  stop  over  some  place  on  the  road.  No ;  much 
obliged  and  grateful  to  you  all  the  same,  but  I  can't 
stay  here.  Good  luck  to  you !  Be  good  to  yourself ! " 

The  two  were  standing  on  the  porch  now,  and,  shak 
ing  hands  with  the  wife  of  the  boss  once  more,  Dick 


216        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

descended  the  steps,  untied  his  horse,  which  had  been 
led  after  him  by  Aunt  Julie,  wound  the  yards  of  rope 
around  the  saddle-horn,  mounted  and  rode  soberly 
upon  his  way. 

"  Well,  I'll  be  durned ! "  he  might  have  been  heard 
to  ejaculate  at  intervals  during  the  first  mile  or  two. 


CHAPTER     XVIII 

BUCKLEY  did  not  write  to  fix  a  day  for  his 
arrival ;  he  was  too  much  of  the  old  bachelor 
for  that;  but  before  leaving  Mendoza  City 
he  had  found    out    that    the    mail-carrier's    buggy 
would  be  at  the  flag-station  to  meet  the  train.     Con 
sequently,  when,  satchel  in  hand,  he  dropped  from 
the  train  as  it  came  to  a  perfunctory  stop,  he  was  not 
surprised  to  see  the  ramshackle  rig  beside  the  track. 
There  was,  however,  another  sort  of  surprise  for  him. 

Upon  the  Boy,  straight  and  lithe,  and  looking 
directly  ahead  of  her  with  grave,  dark  eyes  that  saw 
nothing,  sat  Sylvia.  It  may  sound  absurd,  but  as 
Buckley  watched  her  he  could  think  only  of  some 
gallant,  simple-minded  soldier,  too  single-hearted  to 
dream  that  he  is  brave. 

She  turned  her  head  unexpectedly,  and  her  eyes 
fell  upon  him,  the  swift  colour  dyeing  her  face. 

"Mr.  Buckley!" 

For  a  minute  nothing  more  was  said  on  either 
side.  Then  Buckley,  feeling  the  situation  to  be  over 
strained,  remarked  in  his  usual  tones : 

217 


218        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  Have  you  a  first-class  hotel  on  the  European  plan 
in  your  vicinity,  Sylvia  ?  " 

His  tact  led  him  to  compromise  at  once  upon  her 
first  name,  a  reversion  to  former  habits. 

She  followed  his  roving  glance  over  the  expanse  of 
sage-brush  and  mesquite,  the  deeply  sandy  track,  until 
it  rested  on  the  Mexican  mail-driver  and  his  dilapi 
dated  vehicle. 

She  smiled. 

"  Get  in  that  buggy,  Mr.  Buckley,  and  Refugio 
Sarabio  will  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"  Jupiter !  What  a  jaw-breaking  name !  "  groaned 
Buckley,  as  he  pitched  his  satchel  into  the  buggy,  fol 
lowing,  himself,  in  a  more  gingerly  manner. 

Johnny  was  at  the  house  on  one  of  her  flying 
visits,  and  as  the  small  cavalcade  approached  she 
appeared  on  the  porch. 

It  was  noontide,  and  although  the  intensity  of  the 
summer  heat  had  now  departed,  and  mornings  and 
evenings  were  not  only  cool  but  sparkled  with  the 
rare  dews  of  the  Arid  Belt,  the  thick- walled  adobe 
house  was  still  more  acceptable  than  the  sunshine 
without.  Aunt  Julie  was  despatched  to  a  neighbour's 
to  bespeak  a  room  for  the  newly  arrived  guest,  and 
Johnny,  who  was  labouring  under  an  attack  of  the 
grand  manner  suitable  to  the  reception  of  a  distin- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        219 

guished  stranger,  sailed  away  to  keep  watch  over  the 
sleeping  babe  and  the  cooking  of  the  plain  yet  excel 
lent  repast  the  old  Mammy  knew  so  well  how  to 
concoct. 

Buckley,  whilst  secretly  observing  Sylvia  with  a 
vehemence  of  compassion  and  emotion  surprising  even 
to  himself,  talked  on  with  as  much  ease,  and  with 
almost  as  much  indifference,  as  though  he  were  an 
afternoon  caller  at  her  mother's  city  house;  and  she 
met  him  on  the  same  plane.  It  seems,  sometimes,  as 
though  habit  and  training  are  the  most  potent  forces 
in  our  lives. 

Presently  he  remarked: 

"Well,  I've  got  him  for  you.  He'll  be  here  to 
morrow,  and  we'll  go  through  with  the  function  with 
what  grace  we  can  muster,  all  except  the  young  one. 
Grace  can't  be  looked  for  in  him  yet." 

Sylvia  smiled  indulgently. 

"  Babies  and  bachelors !  You  shall  be  spared,  as 
far  as  the  drivelling  condition  of  a  proud  mother  will 
permit.  But  tell  me  more  about  this  minister." 

"  He's  not  long  from  God's  country,  for  one  thing, 
and » 

"  God's  country  ?  "  she  repeated  wonderingly . 

Buckley  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Well,  the  far,  the  very  far,  East,  then.   He  was  a 


220        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Harvard  man  once,  and  is  here  for  his  health.  To  be 
brief,  Sylvia,  he  is  a  gentleman." 

"  Because  he's  a  Harvard  man,  or  because  he's  here 
for  his  health?  Rise  to  explain,  Mr.  Buckley !  But, 
seriously,  no  matter  whether  he  be  Episcopalian  or 
Salvationist,  to  entertain  a  gentleman  again  will  be 
refreshing." 

"Present  company  excepted,  of  course?"  mur 
mured  Buckley,  meekly. 

Johnny's  voice  was  heard  announcing  dinner,  and 
during  its  progress  Buckley  amused  himself  with 
drawing  out  the  shrewd  woman,  who,  despite  her 
shrewdness,  was  not  quite  equal  as  yet  to  "  sizing  up," 
as  she  expressed  it,  this  unknown  masculine  quantity. 
Nino's  confidence  was  gained  with  less  loss  of  time,  his 
mistress  looking  and  marvelling.  In  the  perspicuity 
of  minute  dogs  she  had  unbounded,  and  not  misplaced, 
faith. 

"  He  can't  abide  the  old  darkey,"  she  said,  at  last. 

"Did  you  ever  know  a  dog  that  could  abide  a 
darkey,  unless  he  was  obliged  to?"  replied  Buckley. 

"  Then  Aunt  Julie  will  persist  in  calling  him  '  she,' " 
put  in  Sylvia,  "  and  he  looks  back  at  her  with  an  air 
of  the  most  unmitigated  disgust,  ties  his  tail  into 
several  bow-knots,  and  walks  off  as  if  the  ground 
burned  his  toes." 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        221 

"  Yes,"  observed  Johnny,  drily ;  "  it's  only  the 
lower  animals,  two-legged  and  four,  as  is  humiliated 
by  bein'  mistook  for  a  female." 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Johnson ! "  expostulated  Buckley, 
deprecation  in  his  tones.  "  Don't  say  I  brought  this 
on  myself !  Stand  up  for  me,  Sylvia ! " 

"  I  didn't  call  no  names,"  proceeded  Johnny,  quite 
unmoved,  "  and  I  know  as  you're  all  right ;  any  friend 
of  hers  has  got  to  be.  But  I  never  did  find  as  it  hurt 
the  men  any  to  give  'em  a  kind  of  a  hitch-up  oncet  in 
a  while.  It  helps  'em  in  the  end." 

At  that  critical  juncture  sounds  were  audible  from 
the  back  of  the  house.  The  party  were  in  the  sitting- 
room  by  this  time. 

"  Bring  me  the  child ! "  announced  Buckley, 
sententiously. 

Johnny  glanced  at  him,  suspicion  in  her  eye.  This 
was  probably  a  ruse  for  the  purpose  of  diverting  well- 
meant  criticism. 

"Do  you  want  to  see  him — really?"  Sylvia 
inquired,  dimpling  with  one  of  those  radiant  smiles1 
that,  despite  her  persistent  cheerfulness,  Buckley  had 
never  hoped  to  behold  again.  For  a  moment  he  could 
not  trust  himself  to  reply.  Johnny,  however,  was 
entirely  capable  of  acting  as  his  substitute. 

"Does  he  want  to  see  him?"  she  repeated,  sniffing 


222        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

scornfully.  "  Don't  waste  anythin'  so  sweet  on  a 
bachelor,  Mrs.  Kingdon!  They  ain't  worth  it." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Johnson,"  expostulated  the  accused, 
with  anxious  humility,  "would  it  not  be  possible,  if 
— er " 

"What,  sir?" 

"  I  don't  know  what,"  murmured  Buckley,  unex 
pectedly  dwindling  to  nothing. 

Mrs.  Johnson  looked  at  him  steadily.  What  was 
passing  in  her  mind  no  man  could  tell.  Then  she 
turned  and  swept  majestically  out  of  the  room. 

It  was  so  like  the  Buckley  of  old,  this  fooling;  yet 
it  puzzled  the  usually  quick-witted  Johnny.  As 
suredly  she  did  not  guess  with  what  a  sorry  heart  he, 
like  many  another,  wore  the  cap  and  bells. 

She  had  no  sooner  reappeared  with  the  baby  than 
he  made  one  stride  toward  her,  snatched  the  child  from 
her  arms,  and  began  whirling  around  the  room,  hold 
ing  the  little  one,  shrieking  with  glee,  high  in  air; 
Johnny  following,  scolding  and  expostulating. 

"Let  him  alone!"  laughed  Sylvia.  "He's  past 
praying  for  when  he  has  these  spells  on  him." 

And  so  indeed  it  seemed.  Around  and  around  he 
flew,  leaping  a  stool  here,  a  chair  there,  apparently 
never  even  glancing  at  the  bundle  of  infantine  ecstasy 
that  whirled  with  him. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        223 

Suddenly  he  stopped,  looking  as  cool  as  when  he 
started.  Dropping  his  burden  upon  Sylvia's  lap,  he 
observed,  calmly : 

"  Now  let  me  make  a  note  of  him." 

He  took  up  his  pince-nez  and  carefully  adjusted 
them. 

"  What  you  puttin'  on  readin'  specs  for  to  look  at 
the  innocent  lamb,  Mr.  Buckley?"  objected  Johnny. 
"  He  ain't  no  newspaper." 

But  Buckley  was  merely  gaining  time,  as  Sylvia 
well  knew.  He  let  the  glasses  drop  again,  and,  tak 
ing  the  small,  soft  chin  between  his  finger  and  thumb, 
turned  the  baby  face  toward  him.  The  deep  eyes  that 
met  his  inquiringly  were  Sylvia's,  but  that  was  all 
of  Sylvia.  The  beautiful  boy  proclaimed  his  father 
hood  with  an  emphasis  positively  startling.  He  was 
not  shy ;  it  seemed  probable  that  he  had  also  inher 
ited  his  father's  social  qualities.  At  all  events  he  made 
himself  as  agreeable  as  present  limitations  would 
permit. 

"He's  a  beauty!" 

Buckley's  tone  was  so  sad  that  Sylvia  involuntarily 
glanced  at  him,  and  their  eyes  met  in  a  long  under 
standing  gaze.  Then  he  pulled  himself  together, 
and,  putting  up  his  hands  as  if  to  ward  off  a  blow, 
exclaimed  anxiously: 


224         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"Isn't  that  all  right,  Mrs.  Johnson?  Won't 
that  do?" 

"  Oh,  get  along  with  you ! "  she  cried.  But  her 
voice  was  eloquent  of  pride  and  joy;  and  presently, 
gathering  up  the  baby,  she  departed,  leaving  the  old 
friends  alone. 

The  truth  was  that  Johnny  was  already  jealous  of 
Buckley. 

From  the  first  she  recognised  in  him  a  member  of 
a  social  existence  which  was  to  her  unknown,  and  con 
sequently  open  to  suspicion ;  therefore  had  she  treated 
him  to  her  haughtiest  stare.  The  stare  had  consider 
ably  relented  in  severity,  not  in  its  entirety  as  in 
Sylvia's  case,  but  to  an  appreciable  exent.  Never 
theless,  not  Sylvia's  utmost  efforts  could  do  more  than 
transform  a  flaming  jealousy  into  a  smouldering  one. 
Yet  Buckley's  obvious  admiration  of  her  idol  took  the 
sting  out  of  the  knowledge  that  she  was  leaving  him 
with  Sylvia  to  "  talk  secrets." 

Mr.  Hendrick  arrived  on  the  following  day, 
remained  between  trains,  and  baptised  the  baby.  He 
was  indeed,  as  Buckley  had  declared,  a  gentleman — 
also,  of  course,  familiar  with  Sylvia's  tragic  story. 
A  preacher  who,  out  of  the  pulpit,  never  preached, 
his  whole  life  was  a  sermon  for  the  reading  of  those 
who  run.  Before  the  ceremony  he  inquired  what 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        225 

name  he  was  to  bestow  upon  the  child,  and  when  the 
mother  replied  in  a  low,  firm  voice  "  David,"  he  made 
a  sound  of  approval,  adding  with  quiet  warmth : 

"  I  have  only  met  Mr.  Kingdon  a  few  times,  but  he 
taught  me  to  feel  very  kindly  toward  him,  and  he  is 
certainly  proving  himself  worthy  of  the  regard  with 
which  he  inspired  me.  If  little  David  is  as  like  his 
father  in  disposition  as  he  is  appearance,  Mrs.  Archi 
bald,  I  think  he  will  grow,  with  God's  help  and  your 
careful  training,  to  be  a  blessing  and  comfort  to 
you." 

On  taking  leave,  he  held  her  hand  in  his  for  a  few 
seconds,  saying: 

"  Do  not  forget  that  in  Mrs.  Hendrick  and  myself 
you  have  friends.  Whenever  you  feel  able  to  come 
to  the  city,  call  on  us ;  and  if  trouble  should  chance, 
as  trouble  always  may,  remember  us." 

Sylvia  thanked  him  with  lips  that  trembled  a  little, 
adding  that,  so  far,  she  had  not  left  Rosalia. 

"  That  perhaps  is  well — for  the  present.  But 
changes  may  come." 

And  he  was  gone. 

"  That's  a  pretty  good  specimen  of  a  minister, 
Sylvia,"  said  Buckley,  as  they  went  into  the  house; 
"  I'm  glad  for  your  sake  that  fate  has  it  that  he  is 
an  Episcopalian." 


226        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Johnny,  who  was  finishing  some  sewing  for  the 
baby  preparatory  to  her  departure,  glanced  up  as 
they  entered,  and  launched  into  a  comparison,  of 
necessity  somewhat  odious,  between  the  two  preachers 
— Mr.  Atherton  and  Mr.  Hendrick. 

"  Yes,  6  the  Lord's  Anointed '  are  often  extremely 
troublesome,"  remarked  Buckley.  He  was  thinking 
of  something  else. 

"When  they  anoints  theyselves,"  retorted  Johnny, 
biting  off  her  thread  in  direct  opposition  to  her 
dentist's  orders.  "  It's  my  belief  as  the  Lord  has 
mighty  little  to  say  to  much  o'  the  anointin'  as  goes 
on.  I  tell  you  I  don't  feel  no  call  to  supply  con 
sciences  to  Christian  workers ! " 

Johnny  went,  and  the  day  came  when  Buckley  too 
had  to  leave. 

Before  he  rose  to  depart  he  sat  silent  for  a  few 
moments,  his  eyes  wandering  around  the  well-filled 
room.  Books  of  all  kinds,  painting  materials — every 
thing  was  there  but  a  piano,  the  absence  of  which  he 
had  understood  without  the  need  of  words. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  spend  the  balance  of  your  life 
here,  Sylvia?" 

"No,  not  my  life.  But  I  must  not  drop  behind 
whilst  I  have  to  stay  in  a  mental  desert.  I  have  Little 
Davie  to  educate,  you  know." 


THE   HUMAN    TOUCH         227 

She  smiled  as  she  spoke.  The  smile  was  a  little 
wan,  but  back  of  it  was  the  indomitable  cheerfulness 
born  only  of  great  disasters. 

"  Isn't  it  a  trifle  early  to  begin  ? "  inquired  Buck 
ley,  hesitatingly.  "  Do  they — er — take  notice  so 
young?  " 

Their  eyes  met,  and  this  time  Sylvia  laughed  out 
right. 

"  You're  not  changed  one  bit ! "  she  said. 

Buckley's  smile  died. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  change  ?  "  he  said,  gravely. 

"  No,  dear  old  friend — no ! " — earnestly,  laying  her 
hand  for  an  instant  on  the  arm  of  his  chair.  "  Thank 
God  for  such  as  you!" 

"  And  you  will  go  on  living  in  this  God-forsaken 
hole?"  he  repeated,  this  time  with  a  trace  of  heat. 

"  Through  the  boy's  second  summer,  I  think.  The 
climate  is  ideal.  Afterward — but  you  know  how 
my  people  feel?  "  She  turned  her  wistful  eyes  upon 
him.  "  If  they  approve,  then  I  will  move.  But 
where?  Here  I  see  no  one.  I  am  as  far  away  from 
— I  mean,  I  am  as  isolated  as  if  I  were  cast  away 
on  a  desert  island  ! " 

"  You  mean  by  that,  you  see  no  one  connected  with 
your  former  life  except  our  esteemed  Johnny?" 

"  No  one — except,  twice,  the  foreman  of  the  cattle- 


228         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

ranch.  Don't  worry!  I  am  as  clean  forgotten  as 
a  dead  man  out  of  mind." 

She  smiled  again;  but  in  her  voice  was  that  note 
that  went  to  her  listener's  heart. 

Buckley  was  silent,  this  time  for  many  minutes. 
He  was  "  seeing  things."  Perhaps  he  had  seen  things 
before — quien  sdbe  ?  Had  he  wasted  his  opportuni 
ties  in  the  past?  Again — quien  sdbe  ? 

The  chronicles  of  his  set  had  it  down  against  him 
that  he  was  the  most  confirmed  of  bachelors. 

"  Well,  I  must  go,"  he  said,  glancing  at  his  watch, 
and  rising.  "  I  hope  you  will  write  without  waiting 
for  something  to  say,  and  especially  if  you  need  me. 
Don't  forget  the  brat's  my  godson." 

"  I  will  write.     And  I  won't  forget." 

She  went  with  him  to  the  door,  where  the  buggy 
waited.  They  did  not  care  to  make  their  farewells 
at  the  depot. 

A  warm,  firm  clasp  of  the  hand,  and  Buckley  was 
gone. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

WEEK  after  week  of  stillness  and  splen 
dour  slipped  along — that  splendour  of 
the  New  Mexican  fall,  that  symphony 
in  blue  and  gold,  which  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Arid  Belt  look  upon  as  their  inalienable  right. 
Then,  one  evening,  the  sun  plunged  headlong  into  a 
blue-black  abyss;  and  when  he  started  on  his  march 
up  the  morning  sky  there  hung  on  tne  eastern  moun 
tain-tops  a  pillow  of  cloud;  and  when  at  length  he 
burst  upon  the  waiting  world  his  triumph  was  short 
lived. 

By  noon  the  cloud  was  rent  by  a  furious  gale 
which  shook  the  earth  to  its  centre,  and  raged  along 
the  valley,  shutting  out  sky  and  mountain  with  a  veil 
of  sand. 

It  was  afternoon  now,  and  Sylvia  sat  at  the  window 
engaged  in  putting  the  finishing  touches  to  a  water- 
colour  sketch  made  the  day  before.  Signs  of  Little 
Davie  were  omnipresent,  but  he  himself  slumbered 
upon  the  broad  lounge.  The  doors  through  into  the 

229 


230        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

kitchen  were  all  open,  and  Aunt  Julie  could  be  heard 
crooning  over  her  ironing.     Variations  of 

"  Swing  low ,  sweet  chariot !  " 

filled  the  pauses  in  the  wind. 

Gradually  Sylvia  ceased  to  paint.  Leaning  back 
in  her  chair,  her  unseeing  eyes  fixed  upon  the  storm 
without,  she  glided  imperceptibly  into  dreams. 

She  came  to,  with  a  sigh  and  a  start.  Dreams? 
No ;  such  are  the  luxury  of  the  happy.  She  sprang 
to  her  feet,  recollecting  that  her  ostensible  reason 
for  stopping  work  had  been  that  a  certain  colour 
she  needed  was  in  a  trunk  kept  in  a  lean-to  shed 
adjoining  the  house. 

Bidding  the  old  coloured  woman  listen  for  any 
sound  from  the  baby,  she  unlocked  and  entered  the 
shed,  which  was  close  to  the  kitchen  door.  There 
was  a  small  square  window  in  the  rude  structure.  The 
door  had  a  spring  lock,  and,  expecting  to  find  what 
she  wanted  promptly,  she  had  not  withdrawn  the  key. 
An  impish  gust  suddenly  whirled  around  the  corner 
and  slammed  the  door.  She  was  a  prisoner.  This 
was  provoking,  but  nothing  more.  The  baby  was 
cared  for,  the  day  was  not  cold,  and  her  period  of 
discomfort  would  be  but  brief;  Aunt  Julie  would 
soon  appear,  to  find  out  what  delayed  her  mistress. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        231 

Undisturbed,  therefore,  she  began  to  remove  the 
articles  in  this  trunk  that  Aunt  Julie  had  packed  and 
that  had  not  been  opened  since.  As  she  did  so,  she 
became  aware  of  voices ;  men  were  evidently  standing 
close  against  the  side  of  the  shed,  out  of  the  wind, 
and  talking  together  in  voices  intended  to  be  low,  but 
which  were  in  reality  not  so,  on  account  of  the  roaring 
of  the  gale. 

For  a  few  minutes  Sylvia  paid  no  attention  to  them, 
until  suddenly  David's  name  struck  upon  her  ear. 
The  speaker  was  Berry.  Then  occurred  one  of  those 
coincidences  we  are  in  the  habit  of  calling  remarkable, 
but  which  are  common  enough  in  this  real  life  of 
ours. 

She  had  penetrated  to  the  middle  of  the  trunk,  and, 
as  she  lifted  a  gown  of  soft  silk  and  lace,  there, 
smiling  up  at  her,  was  the  face  of  David  himself, 
brilliant,  animated — the  portrait  she  had  painted  dur 
ing  those  happy  days  in  the  mountains. 

The  shock  was  supreme,  the  effect  produced  far 
more  remarkable  than  the  coincidence  itself. 

Sylvia  arose,  and,  laying  the  gown  gently  back 
upon  the  face  of  the  picture  almost  as  though  she 
were  covering  the  face  of  the  dead,  walked  deliber 
ately,  with  white  face  and  set  lips,  in  the  direction 
of  the  voices.  There  was  a  knot  missing  in  the  rude 


232         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

boarding,  and  unhesitatingly  she  put  her  eye  to  the 
hole. 

Spying  and  listening — what  a  role  for  "  the  proud 
Miss  Newman  "  !  And  she  was  not  ashamed.  If 
by  any  means  she  could  succeed  not  only  in  aiding 
David,  but  in  frustrating  the  eternal  mockery  of 
law,  such  means  she  was  now  resolved  to  employ.  Her 
mood  was  not  one  for  trifling. 

Long  Tom  had  been  pointed  out  to  her  at  the 
round-up,  and,  assisted  by  that  half-unconscious 
memory  of  faces  developed  by  a  wide  and  varied 
social  life,  she  recognised  the  man  in  an  instant; 
and  in  spite  of  her  resolution,  shuddered  as  she 
did  so. 

The  third  member  of  the  group  was  Berry's  son,  a 
favourite  with  Mr.  Atherton,  and  whom,  therefore, 
she  had  often  met.  The  expression  of  his  counte 
nance  was  sufficient  for  any  one  with  eyes  wherewith 
to  see.  He  belonged  to  the  type  of  manhood  who, 
by  a  natural  law,  may  be  depended  upon  to  make 
themselves  offensive  to  women  who  have  been  inno 
cently  compromised,  and  from  whom  such  women  do 
well  to  follow  their  equally  natural  instinct  to  shrink. 
Sylvia  had  not  merely  shrunk,  but  had  taken  refuge 
behind  the  unassailable  hauteur  before  referred  to. 
How  this  man  contrived  to  make  a  living,  unless  by 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        233 

living  on  his  father,  no  one  could  have  told.  He  was 
looked  upon  generally  as  "a  pretty  bad  egg." 

"  It  was  a  d d  fool-trick !  "  growled  Berry. 

"  T'wa'n't  no  sech  a  thing ! "  retorted  Long  Tom. 
"  Bluff's  a  good  game  to  play,  I  tell  you,  played 
right.  Me  an'  you  wa'n't  never  one  on  that." 

"/  tell  you  that  it's  resky!"  persisted  the 

older  man,  piling  on  the  oaths — "  jest  at  election  time, 
too !  an'  the  other  side  raisin'  Cain  tryin'  to  suspicion 
true  regardin'  them  cows.  But  we  done  'em  up, 
sure!" 

And  the  speaker  laughed  a  cackling  laugh  at  the 
recollection. 

"  You  bet !  A  dozen  an'  more  cows  to  the  good  we 

is,  an'  that  d d  Kingdon  chap  to  the  bad !  An'  it's 

bluff  as  done  it  every  time,  Mr.  Berry!" 

There  was  a  short  pause.  Then  Vincent  Berry 
spoke : 

"  Well,  we  got  to  win !  That's  all  there  is  about 
it." 

"What's  an  election,  anyway?"  said  his  father. 
"  Dollars  an'  whiskey !  An'  the  h — 1  of  it  is  the  other 
side's  got  the  dollars." 

"An'  ain't  we  got  'em  equally  as  good?"  snarled 
the  son.  "  It's  up  to  you,  Paw,  to  plank  'em  down. 
Th'  ain't  a  d d  Mexican  as  ain't  to  be  bought,  not 


234         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

so  awful  many  white  men  neither.  So  jes'  go  ahead 
an'  win,  /  say ! " 

"  Yes,"  retorted  Berry,  "  an'  if  we're  cornered 
an'  has  to  throw  up  our  hands  before  election,  then 
what?" 

"Oh,  come  off,  Paw!  If  you're  a-goin'  to  corner 
us  on  the  other  business — an'  as  for  buy  in'  votes, 
they'll  have  to  prove  it.  An'  as  for  juries — you 
know's  well's  I  do  as  fifty  dollars  will  buy  any  jury 
as  ever  stepped!" 

There  was  another  silence.  Then  Long  Tom 
stretched  himself  and  yawned. 

"  Well,  I  guess  as  I'll  be  makin'  tracks.  The  wind 
has  moderated  some.  An'  if  Vin's  goin'  to  board  that 
train,  /  say  as  we'd  best  hump  ourselves,  get  a  drink 

over  to  the  store,  an'  get  out  to  that  d d  fool 

Atherton's." 

They  were  gone.  In  another  moment  Julie's  voice 
was  heard  at  the  door,  the  lock  was  turned  and 
Sylvia  was  free. 

The  baby  was  awake,  but  for  once  his  claim  on  her 
notice  was  waived.  She  sent  nurse  and  child  out  of 
the  room,  and,  sitting  down  to  her  desk,  began  to 
consider  the  matter  before  her.  It  was  of  the  great 
est  importance,  not  omitting  the  fact  that  Long  Tom, 
murderer  and  cattle-rustler,  was  walking  abroad  un- 


(THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         235 

molested.  But  how,  and  to  whom,  could  she  transmit 
the  information  she  had  gathered?  To  make  use  of 
the  wire  was  out  of  the  question ;  the  telephone  in 
the  store  was  equally  so;  in  country  communities 
news  imparted  by  such  means  becomes  at  once  public 
property.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  write — 
and  to  whom  ?  Suspicion  had  become  certainty ;  and 
yet  how  could  she  ever  appear  as  witness? 

She  seized  a  pen  and  wrote  to  John  Cristol.  This 
done,  there  was  exactly  twenty  minutes  in  which  to 
catch  the  train,  which  of  course  would  be  flagged  for 
Berry.  The  mail-carrier  had  started.  The  Boy 
was  at  pasture  half  a  mile  away ;  and  the  horse  for 
her  purpose  was  at  that  moment  being  tied  to  the 
porch  of  the  store.  The  animal  was  a  retired  cow- 
pony,  but  Sylvia  was  horsewoman  enough  to  have 
discovered  long  since  that  the  claims  his  master  made 
for  him  were  not  unfounded ;  and  that  when  that  mas 
ter  insisted  that  this  low-crested,  lowering-eyed  "  son 
of  the  sage-brush"  had  a  capacity  for  "humping 
himself, "  the  said  assertion  was  no  empty  boast. 

The  wind  was  subsiding,  to  some  extent.  Aunt 
Julie,  bathing  the  baby  in  the  inner  room,  was  sing 
ing  at  the  full  pitch  of  her  lungs.  Sylvia  picked 
up  a  hat  and  a  light  coat,  and  went  forth,  letter  in 
hand. 


236        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

She  went  straight  to  the  clerk,  the  horse's  owner, 
a  respectful  admirer  of  hers. 

"  Want  to  catch  the  mail  ? "  he  said,  briskly,  in 
reply  to  her  query.  "'Why,  certainly,  Mrs.  Archi 
bald!  Take  Ketchum,  and  welcome!  He'll  do  the 
trick  for  you,  if  you  handle  him  right." 

He  added  one  or  two  words  of  advice,  and  she  was 
off.  The  sun  was  just  setting  in  a  dusty,  murky  west ; 
and  to  an  imaginative  person  there  is  always  some 
thing  weird  and  tense  in  driving  alone  through  a  fast 
vanishing  twilight.  The  solemn,  swift  advance  of 
night  presses  hard,  like  some  antagonistic  presence, 
upon  the  solitary. 

Mr.  Brown  was  not  mistaken  about  Ketchum.  He 
made,  with  but  slight  encouragement,  the  mile  and  a 
half,  some  if  it  through  hub-deep  sand,  in  eleven 
minutes.  Thoroughly  disgusted,  but  by  no  means 
blown,  he  chewed  in  mute  annoyance  the  telegraph 
pole  to  which  his  driver  hitched  him  just  as  the  train 
came  to  a  stop. 

The  letter  was  safe  now  on  the  rapidly  disappear 
ing  mail-car,  and  Sylvia  started  homeward.  The 
wind  was  reduced  to  a  mere  nothing,  but  there  were 
other  annoyances.  Vin  Berry,  who  with  two  friends 
of  the  same  calibre  had  escorted  his  father  to  the  train, 
had  lingered  around,  watching  Sylvia  as  she  untied 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        237 

her  horse  and  got  into  the  buggy.  She  detested  the 
man,  his  companions  looked  equally  odious,  and  she 
was  bitterly  aware  that  they  all  considered  her  fair 
game  for  insolence  The  carefully  nurtured  city 
girl  had  never  been  alone  at  nightfall  on  a  country 
road  before;  and  it  is  vain  to  pretend  that  Sylvia 
was  possessed  of  much  native  courage. 

All  went  well  until  the  stretch  of  deep  sand  not  far 
from  the  depot  was  reached.  She  decided  to  let 
Ketchum  slouch  through  it  at  a  walk,  although  this 
arrangement  permitted  the  wagon  to  approach  very 
near,  the  men  within  making  personal  remarks 
intended  for  her  delectation.  Her  object  was  to  save 
her  horse,  feeling  sure  that,  once  upon  the  hard  adobe 
road,  the  cow-pony  would  show  a  clean  pair  of  heels 
to  her  tormentors;  more  especially  as  they,  in  merci 
less  Western  fashion,  were  jagging  and  slashing  their 
panting  team  through  the  heartbreaking  sand.  They 
passed  the  buggy,  turning  around  as  they  did  so 
to  stare  and  make  yet  louder  remarks  than  before; 
then  to  her  dismay,  having  reached  the  hard  road, 
they  pulled  their  horses  to  a  walk,  and  amused  them 
selves  with  observing  her  slower  progress. 

It  was  a  bitter  ordeal  for  Sylvia,  though  some  other 
kind  of  woman  might  have  scorned  to  be  disturbed 
by  it ;  but  to  Sylvia  it  was  so  unspeakably  bitter  that 


238         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

she  even  caught  herself  smiling  at  the  monstrosity  of 
the  thing,  and  then  was  suddenly  torn  with  a  shame 
and  indignation  that  no  Western  woman  under  like 
circumstances  could  possibly  have  comprehended.  A 
wild  cloud  swayed  across  the  moon,  the  gust  that 
drove  it  lifting  her  hat  and  blowing  the  dust  in  her 
face.  She  was  still  calm  enough  to  remember  that 
she  could  not  afford  to  have  her  actions  impeded  by  a 
hat.  She  whipped  it  off  and  thrust  it  under  the  seat ; 
then,  holding  the  reins  between  her  knees,  tied  her 
veil  over  her  head.  Now  she  was  ready,  and  the  hard 
road  was  close  at  hand. 

Ketchum,  who  could  scarcely  be  described  as  a  good- 
natured  or  ambitious  animal,  resented  her  first  tight 
ening  of  the  reins  by  a  cross  snatch  at  them.  But 
Sylvia  was  not  discouraged ;  she  felt  confident  he  would 
respond  when  seriously  called  upon. 

The  men  in  the  wagon  had  come  to  a  full  stop,  and 
another  gust  of  wind  enveloped  her  in  a  cloud  of 
dust.  This  was  her  opportunity,  and,  like  a  good 
general,  she  seized  it.  Taking  Ketchum  short  by  the 
head,  she  gave  him  one  sharp  cut  with  the  whip.  He 
kicked  up  his  heels,  then  flung  himself  forward  on  a 
dead  run.  Sylvia  braced  her  feet  against  the  iron 
stretcher  and  pulled  steadily  on  the  reins ;  pulled  even 
when  the  horse  had  settled  to  a  trot;  pulled  until  he 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        239 

was  trotting  his  best ;  then  let  him  go.  She  had 
learned  the  trick;  and  Ketchum,  in  his  nasty,  ill- 
tempered  way,  acknowledged  that  she  had  got  the 
better  of  him.  Once  he  nagged;  she  drew  on  the 
rein  again,  and  again  he  flew.  In  less  than  a  mile  the 
men  in  the  wagon  had  abandoned  the  pursuit. 

"Well,  did  you  make  it,  Mrs.  Archibald?"  inquired 
Ketchum's  proud  owner,  as  the  buggy  rolled  up  to 
the  store  door. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Brown,  thanks  to  Ketchum.  He's  a 
good  horse ! " 

"  Ain't  he,  though ! "  cried  the  delighted  youth.  "  I 
always  did  say,  once  let  Mrs.  Archibald  get  behind 
him,  and  she'd  know  enough  to  find  it  out!  These 
fellers  here  don't  know  nothing.  You're  more  than 
welcome,  any  time  you  need  him.  You've  got  the 
finest  saddler  this  section's  ever  seen,  but  Ketchum's 
the  boy  for  a  buggy!" 

"  That's  right,  Mr.  Brown,"  she  responded,  in  the 
vernacular  of  the  country. 

"  Laws  sakes,  chile ! "  exclaimed  Aunt  Julie,  as 
Sylvia  pulled  off  her  veil,  displaying  in  the  light  of 
the  lamp  eyes  like  stars  and  cheeks  pink  with  excite 
ment.  "  Whar,  fo'  de  Lor's  sake,  have  you  been?  " 

"Just  to  mail  a  letter,  Mammy.  Is  Baby 
asleep  ?  " 


240        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"Dis  long  time,  de  blessed  lamb!" 

Sylvia  took  a  small  lamp  and  passed  into  the  inner 
room.  Leaning  over  the  sleeping  child  her  eyes 
devoured  him  with  the  intensity  of  love. 

The  roar  and  rush  of  the  day  was  over.  In  the 
profound  violet  blue  of  the  sky  floated  the  silver  boat 
of  the  young  moon,  at  the  prow  her  guiding  star. 
Near  the  horizon  this  passion  of  colour  lost  itself  in 
rarest  ether,  deepening  to  orange  and  flecked  here 
and  there  with  tossed  plumes  of  sable  tortured  into 
strange  shapes  by  the  hand  of  the  strong  west 
wind. 

The  wind  was  gone  now,  leaping  over  the  mountains 
into  the  east.  Here  all  was  still. 

Sylvia  put  out  the  lamp,  and,  sinking  into  a  low 
rocker  beside  the  bed,  wept  long  and  silently. 

"  Mis',  don'  look  at  me  datter  way !  I  ain't  done 
nuffin.  Dick,  he  done  tole  him!"  Then,  more 
defiantly:  "  An'  ef  a  man  cayn't  see  his  own  chile 
who  favours  him  so  mightily  dat  no  one  ain't  gwine 
to  so  much  as  peek  at  him  an'  not  know  hit — now, 
Mis',  don't  take  hit  so  hard." 

For  Sylvia  was  white  as  death. 

Aunt  Julie,  in  slippery,  faithful  darkey  fashion, 
had  betrayed  her ;  Dick  had  betrayed  her. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         241 

"Who  told — him — that  I  was  going  to  Mcndoza 
City  to-day  ?  "  she  said,  hoarsely. 

A  pause.  Aunt  Julie  was  wondering  how  she  could 
shuffle  out  of  this  dilemma. 

"Dick  say,  nex'  time  your  Mis'  go  'way,  you  tell 
me.  I  say,  my  Mis'  don'  never  go  from  hyar.  Then 
you  say  you  'bleeged  go  see  Mr.  Hendrick  one  certain 
day  this  week.  Dick  come  down,  seein'  after  dat 
Berry.  I  done  tole  him!" 

Aunt  Julie  was  sullen  now. 

And  Sylvia  had  missed  her  train,  and  was  back 
again.  Whose  fault  was  that,  Aunt  Julie  would  like 
to  know? 

"Who  has  seen  him?" 

Sylvia's  voice  was  almost  inaudible.  Her  whole 
being  was  one  yearning  cry. 

"  No  one  done  see  him.  They  camped  thar  in  de 
bosque  all  night,  an'  soon  in  de  mornin',  after  you 
done  gone,  I  ca'ied  Davie  way  off  to  dat  little  old 
adobe  to  de  Marse." 

The  old  woman  looked  at  her  mistress  with  the 
furtive  expression  which  is  the  birthright  of  her  race ; 
then  she  added,  insinuatingly : 

"  Mis',  you  listen  to  the  ole  Mammy,  an'  take  your 
hat  an'  go  thar.  Let  Marse  Davie  see  your  face  jes' 
this  one  time !  T'ain't  gwine  hurt,  I  tell  you,  an'  it's 


242        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

right  he  should  see  de  chile  an5  de  mother.  How's 
you-all  gwine  raise  datter  chile  widout  de  father  say 
how?  Ain't  de  sweet  lamb  his,  well  as  your's? 
Ain't  he  to  have  no  say-so  to  hit?  De  ole  Mammy 
ain't  never  spoke  bef o',  but  she's  talkin'  now,  sure ! 
She  done  let  you  have  it  your  own  way.  But,  Mis', 
dat  boy  Marse  Davie's  too!" 

There  was  a  long,  long  silence. 

In  such  struggles,  when  what  we  call  the  Flesh 
wars  against  the  Spirit,  and  the  Spirit  against  the 
Flesh,  it  is  often  the  element  of  righteousness  in  the 
demands  of  the  Flesh  that  gives  them  their  power 
over  us.  At  last  Sylvia  spoke. 

"  Come,  Aunt  Julie ! "  And  the  two  went  out 
together. 

"  I  been  back  an'  forth  a  heap  o'  times.  Even  de 
goats  an'  de  herdin'  boy  done  gone  dis  day.  De  ole 
bosque  still,  like  de  grave." 

The  door  of  the  deserted  hut  stood  open.  The 
old  woman  pulled  her  mistress  down  behind  a  mes- 
quite  bush,  and  bade  her  look. 

And  Sylvia?  As  she  watched  the  two  brown  heads 
so  close  together,  the  mother's  heart  contracted  with 
the  very  anguish  of  love.  For  the  child  looked  back 
at  his  father  with  his  mother's  eyes,  and  was  not 
afraid. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        243 

How  she  entered  she  knew  not,  how  the  three  met 
she  knew  not ;  but  Aunt  Julie  had  gone  outside  with 
the  baby,  and  David  was  kneeling  at  her  feet  and 
covering  her  hands  with  kisses,  and  she  had  had  time  to 
note,  with  another  contraction  of  the  heart,  the  fine 
lines  drawn  around  his  eyes  and  about  his  brow. 

"  How  could  you  keep  this  from  me?  "  he  murmured 
at  last.  "Dearest,  how  could  you?" 

She  answered  nothing.  There  was  indeed  nothing 
to  be  said.  We  bear,  we  endure,  we  scarce  know  how. 
God  knows,  we  say,  and  as  Sylvia  freed  one  hand  and 
laid  it  on  the  bowed  brown  head,  the  pity  of  it  went 
to  her  heart  with  a  pang  as  pure  and  selfless  as  that 
of  a  mother  for  her  grieving  child. 

At  length  she  spoke — softly — her  hand  still  upon 
his  head. 

"Would  it  be  any  help  to  you  to  see  the  child 
sometimes  ?  " 

He  lifted  his  face,  his  eyes  darkened  and  dimmed 
with  tears. 

"  How  can  it  be?     He  is  too  like — too  like " 

"  I  know.     But,  David,  it  is  your  right." 

"  But  we — we  cannot  meet !  I  dare  not !  Oh,  my 
Sylvia — my  wife!  " 

He   arose   and   walked   away   from   her.     Outside, 


244        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Aunt  Julie  was  crooning  to  the  child.  But  for  that, 
the  place  was  utterly  still. 

When  he  turned,  he  was  himself  again.  Here  was 
the  rare  man  who  did  not,  after  the  common  manner 
of  man,  mistake  the  self-control  of  the  brave  woman. 
That  she  suffered  even  as  he  did  acted  as  a  call  upon 
that  manhood  which  had  been  strengthened  and  deep 
ened  by  her  influence;  most  of  all,  by  her  undying 
faith  in  him.  From  the  first,  she  had  believed  in  him, 
had  divined  the  possibilities  lying  hidden  beneath 
apparently  trivial  externals — hidden  from  the  entire 
world  of  his  own  sex  and  from  the  large  majority  of 
her  own. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said.  "  You  have  been  right 
all  through,  my  Sylvia.  How  long  this  must  go  on 
we  cannot  tell;  perhaps  not  always.'* 

He  held  out  his  hands,  and  she  laid  her  own  within 
them. 

"As  for  the  boy,"  he  said,  after  that  long  pause, 
"  I  need  not  tell  you  what  it  would  be  to  me  to  see  him 

sometimes.  You  know  how  I  always  longed " 

He  curbed  himself;  then  started  afresh.  "But  the 
difficulties  are  stupendous,  even  if  you  stay  where  you 
are." 

"And  that  is  best  for  the  present?" 

"I  think  so.     And  no  trouble  is  being  made  for 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        245 

either  of  us,  I  understand.  Next  year,  perhaps,  when 
the  boy  is  older,  you  may  have  to  go " 

The  yearning  in  his  eyes  for  a  moment  overcame 
her;  and  he  saw  the  instant's  faltering.  Strong  is 
the  Human,  and  it  found  voice  now. 

"  Sylvia,"  he  whispered,  "  are  you  sure — sure — 
we  are  doing  right  ?  " 

"  Sure,  David?  Who  can  be  sure?  We  must  do 
the  best  we  can — it  is  all  that  we  can  do — live  up  to 
the  highest  that  is  in  us — as  long  as  we  are  able " 

There  was  another  silence,  and  when  she  spoke 
again  it  was  firmly. 

"  As  for  the  difficulties  in  regard  to  little  Davie, 
they  shall  be  overcome.  You  have  your  rights. 
Leave  them  in  my  charge  for  a  while." 

"Dick  waitin'  on  you,  Marse,"  said  Julie,  at  the 
door. 

One  last,  long  gaze;  one  close  pressure  of  the 
clasped  hands. 

"  Not  once,  my  Sylvia?  " 

For  answer  she  raised  her  face  to  his,  and  they 
kissed  one  another  almost  as  we  kiss  the  dead. 

At  the  door  he  took  the  child  from  the  arms  of  its 
nurse,  stroked  its  soft  head,  and  clasped  it  for  a 
moment  to  his  breast ;  then  mounted  his  horse  without 
a  word,  and  rode  upon  his  way. 


CHAPTER   XX 

THE  Territorial  elections  were  close  at  hand. 
Mystery  and  strife  thickened  the  moral  at 
mosphere  of  the  county  town  as  effectually 
as  the  perpetually  stirred  dust  of  its  streets  con 
taminated  the  purity  of  its  more  tangible  atmosphere. 
The  constant  hurrying  of  horses,  at  the  ungainly 
Western  lope,  bearing  riders  who  are  really  not  in 
a  hurry  at  all,  is  like  a  perpetual  sarcasm  in  a  section 
where  haste  which  is  either  efficient  or  seemly  is  practi 
cally  unknown. 

There  are,  however,  exceptions  to  the  universal 
Territorial  rule,  and  Cristol  and  his  right-hand  man, 
David  Kingdon,  figured  among  them. 

For  into  the  turmoil  and  dirt,  moral  and  physical, 
of  the  elections  David  had  thrown  himself  headlong. 
His  own  business  was  not,  in  consequence,  performed 
perfunctorily;  but,  temporarily  at  least,  stock-own 
ing  had  lost  much  of  its  interest  for  him.  For  a  while 
it  had  to  some  extent  availed  as  a  distraction  from 
pressing  griefs;  but  as  life  had  grown  increasingly 
more  barren  and  difficult,  mere  work  had  not  availed. 

246 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        247 

The  accepted  belief,  that  unvaried  daily  toil,  whether 
of  mind  or  body — a  toil  and  strife  in  which 

"No  eye  beams  Courage. 

And  no  voice  cries  Well ! " 

can  withstand  the  equally  ceaseless  strain  upon  the 
heart,  David  had  long  since  discovered  to  be  even  as 
other  popular  beliefs — invented  for  the  satisfaction 
of  the  prosperous. 

The  fall  business  had,  therefore,  been  left  to  the 
faithful  Dick,  whilst  David  abandoned  himself  to  the 
excitement  of  serving  his  friend  Cristol. 

The  marked  change  for  the  better  which  had  taken 
place  in  Clairette's  condition  had  served  to  lessen  her 
claims  upon  his  time.  With  the  advent  in  late  August 
of  friends  from  Jonesville,  a  former  admirer  and  his 
invalid  sister,  literally  as  well  as  figuratively  to  pitch 
their  tents  at  Kingdon's  Crossing  for  the  winter,  this 
decided  improvement  had  set  in.  Like  the  majority 
of  women  whose  beauty  is  of  mediocre  quality,  her 
vanity  exceeded  her  good  looks.  The  beautiful 
woman,  she  whose  beauty  has  a  more  solid  foundation 
than  youthful  diablerie  or  rounded  cheeks,  is  seldom 
afflicted  with  this  plebeian  characteristic ;  she  is  too 
proud  to  be  vain.  But  to  Clairette  that  the  full 
cheeks  and  figure  which  go  with  her  style  should  fall 


248         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

away  had  been  a  dread  second  only  to  her  dread  of 
death.  Of  late,  her  anxiety  had  been  lest  a  growing 
double  chin  should  not  prove  becoming.  Her  vanity, 
therefore,  was  now  in  good  working  order. 

Invalidism  might  do  for  a  husband;  but,  potent  as 
she  believed  her  charms  to  be,  she  was  nevertheless 
dimly  aware  that  they  were  not  of  a  sufficiently  inter 
esting  character  to  stand  being  coupled  with  the 
manners  and  customs  of  ill-health;  in  her  case  the 
two  were  clearly  a  misfit.  The  coming  of  the  young 
man  in  question  was  a  godsend  to  Clairette.  Yet  her 
terror  of  death  was  still  all-powerful.  She  manifested 
extraordinary  prudence,  even  when  the  thermometer 
got  pushed  to  the  back  of  her  bureau-drawer  and 
forgotten,  and  the  hour  passed  unnoticed  at  which 
she  had  been  in  the  habit  of  having  her  husband  or 
Justine  feel  her  pulse;  or,  more  significant  yet,  she 
played  cards  two  evenings  in  succession. 

David,  therefore,  was  not  so  much  in  request,  and 
it  was  with  an  undisturbed  conscience  that  he  threw 
himself  into  the  task  of  assisting  the  Will  of  the 
People,  to  use  a  phrase  now  become  worse  than  mean 
ingless.  The  usual  bribery  and  corruption  were  here 
seconded  by  arts  produced  by  far  Western  conditions, 
and  David  found  his  waters  of  Lethe  somewhat  dirty 
and  unpleasant  to  the  taste. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         249 

Cristol  had  not  mentioned  the  receipt  of  that  note 
from  Sylvia.  For  a  while,  indeed,  he  had  not  seen 
his  way  to  making  use  of  the  information  it  contained. 

It  was  late  one  night  that  he  and  Kingdon  found 
themselves  alone,  after  a  fatiguing  day  that,  for 
Cristol,  had  not  yet  closed.  They  were  enjoying  a 
quiet  smoke  at  the  headquarters  of  the  political  party 
to  which  both  belonged ;  rather  perforce  than  because 
either  considered  that  the  game  of  politics  and  the 
election  of  guardians  of  the  peace  have  anything 
in  common.  The  two  men  showed  the  effects  of 
sleepless  nights  and  hard  work. 

The  sheriff  took  a  letter  from  an  inner  fold  of  his 
pocketbook  and  passed  it  across  the  table  to  his  com 
panion.  David's  sensitive  face  flushed  as  his  eyes 
fell  on  the  familiar  handwriting,  but  he  drew  the  letter 
from  its  envelope  and  read  it  without  comment;  then 
returned  it,  though  with  evident  reluctance,  to  its 
owner. 

"No,  my  son," — and  Cristol  smiled  an  indulgent 
smile — "you  can't  keep  it.  Pen-work  ain't  over  and 
above  safe  these  days." 

He  struck  a  match  and  held  both  letter  and  envelope 
in  its  flame  until  ashes  on  the  bare  floor  were  all  that 
remained. 

"  She  can't  appear  as  a  witness ! " 


250         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

The  sheriff  lit  a  fresh  cigar  before  replying: 

"  Not  much !     That's  the  devil  of  it." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  that  there  is  anything  to  be 
done,  then." 

Cristol  glanced  sharply  at  his  companion.  To  be 
nonplussed  or  dejected  in  the  very  thick  of  the  fray 
— what  new  David  was  this? 

But  the  sheriff  did  not  know  of  that  meeting  and 
parting  scarcely  a  month  back ;  and  it  is  these  things 
that  take  the  heart  out  of  a  man. 

Cristol  took  his  cigar  from  between  his  lips, 
examined  it  critically  at  both  ends,  and  returned  it 
where  it  belonged. 

"Everything's  done,"  he  retorted,  quietly. 

Springing  from  his  chair,  David  faced  his  friend. 
He  was  once  more  his  alert  and  eager  self. 

With  a  deliberation  which  the  younger  man  had 
learned  to  expect  and  endure,  Cristol  told  his  tale. 

True,  he  had  not  been  able  to  act  directly  upon  the 
information  furnished  him  by  Sylvia,  but  her  prompt 
ness  in  catching  him  whilst  at  Mendoza  City,  she 
having  learned  from  village  gossip  that  he  was  there, 
had  proved  of  extreme  value.  He  had  laid  his  plans 
in  the  city;  gathered  there,  "on  the  quiet,"  details 
likely  to  advantageously  supplement  those  sent  him 
from  the  Rosalia  valley;  and  one  night  he  mounted 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        251 

his  horse,  rode  forty  miles  to  a  friendly  ranchman's, 
where  he  passed  the  following  day,  and  toward  evening 
started  again,  arriving  at  Sylvia's  village  after  dark 
and  unobserved.  Removing  his  guns  from  the  saddle, 
he  hid  his  horse  in  the  deep  bosque,  and  proceeded 
in  the  moonless  October  night  to  Sylvia's  house. 
Accustomed  to  the  watchfulness  which  is  the  never 
sleeping  companion  of  a  travelling  sheriff  who  carries 
his  life  in  his  hand,  Cristol  was  positive  that  he  had 
both  entered  and  left  the  house  unseen,  except  by  the 
faithful  old  coloured  woman.  Here  the  narrator, 
being  but  a  kind  and  human  man,  paused  for  the 
breathless  query : 

"  And  you  saw  her !     Did  she  seem  well  ?  " 
Cristol's  deliberation  appeared  to  increase  on  him. 
Finally  he  said: 

"Well,  I  guess  so.  But  she  ain't  the  kind  of 
young  woman  that  dances  on  graves,  so  to  speak,  or 
flirts  around  in  crape  because  it's  so  interesting.  Any 
one  can  see  she's  got  a  deep,  feeling  heart;  and  I've 
been  around  enough  to  know  that  it's  not  every  woman 
has  that.  Of  course  she's  broken  up  some,  but  she 
wouldn't  let  on  as  she  was,  and  spoke  as  well  and 
showed  as  much  mind  as  if  all  her  life  she'd  been  at 
this  work.  And  she's  got  mind,  let  me  tell  you! 
And  what's  more,  Kingdon,  your  wife-as-was  always 


252        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

did  seem  to  me  the  sweetest,  faithfulest  kind  of  a 
woman — and  beautiful  too,  even  if  she  has  lost  her 
colour  and  flesh  some." 

The  men  smoked  in  silence.  Then  Cristol  ex 
claimed  : 

"  And  as  for  the  kid — I  tell  you,  Dave,  he's  a  likely 
young  one !  A  regular  buster,  and  no  mistake ! " 

He  turned  a  face  eloquent  with  sympathy  upon 
his  companion,  but  was  not  prepared  for  the  flash  of 
David's  smile,  or  his  quick — 

"Isn't  he,  though!" 

The  sheriff  stared;  then  light  dawned  on  him. 

"Pretty  risky,  eh?" 

"  Risky  enough  but "  Then  followed  the  fuller 

explanation — the  occasion  of  the  Fair  at  Correone 
which  had  depleted  the  village,  the  carefully  laid  plot 
of  Dick  and  Aunt  Julie,  Sylvia's  frustrated  visit  to 
Mendoza  City. 

All  this  produced  on  the  sheriff  an  effect  of  silence ; 
but  time  was  passing,  and  he  soon  hurried  to  a  close. 

After  a  lengthy  consultation,  he  and  Sylvia  had 
parted.  He  was  in  possession  now  of  certain  points 
indispensable  to  success ;  it  only  remained  for  him  to 
bring  his  practiced  faculties  to  bear  on  the  case. 
This  he  had  done,  and  now  produced  a  document, 
which  he  spread  out  upon  the  table. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         253 

He  had  not  considered  the  matter  of  buying  votes 
of  prime  importance,  as  witnesses  to  that  procedure 
could  be  found  almost  anywhere,  at  almost  any  time ; 
but  in  regard  to  the  other  matters  he  had  needed 
accurate  proof.  This  he  had  obtained,  partly  at 
Sylvia's  suggestion,  from  Joe  Brown  at  the  store, 
and  from  a  Mexican  teamster  of  Berry's.  Both  wit 
nesses  knew  Long  Tom  well  by  sight,  had  seen  him 
that  windy  day  in  the  village,  and  had  heard  him 
boasting  in  his  cups.  The  Mexican,  who  had  reasons 
of  his  own  for  revenging  himself  on  Berry,  had  more 
than  once  been  an  auditor  of  compromising  discussions 
in  the  Berry  household.  Brown  was  an  easy-going 
backward  sort  of  a  fellow,  who  would  never  have  come 
forward  but  for  Sylvia's  action.  The  accumulated 
evidence  was  practically  the  same  as  hers  would  have 
been  had  it  been  possible  to  bring  her  forward.  It 
was  clearly  written  out,  and  signed  by  both  witnesses. 

"You  understand,"  concluded  the  sheriff,  as  he 
pocketed  the  document,  and  pushed  back  his  chair, 
"that  no  names  are  to  be  called  unless  our  hand  is 
forced.  I  simply  make  statements,  and  my  belief 
is  they'll  take  the  trick.  If  they  don't,  I  hold  the 
winning  card — see?  Berry  and  the  gang  can't  afford 
to  monkey  with  t his  hand ! " 

The  two  candidates,  Berry  and  Cristol,  belonged  to 


254        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

the  same  political  party,  but  there  was  absolutely  no 
question  with  which  candidate  the  best  element  ranged 
itself.  When  the  day  of  nomination  dawned,  there 
fore,  the  Cristol  faction  proceeded  to  the  place  of 
meeting  of  their  party  without  a  suspicion  of  what 
was  in  store  for  them.  In  conflicts  which  may  better 
be  described  as  a  series  of  assassinations  in  the  dark, 
not  even  the  most  experienced  can  foresee  when  or 
where  the  stiletto  will  strike;  and  those  longest  tried 
in  political  corruption  may  be  entrapped  by  tricks 
worse  and  dirtier  than  any  previous  experience  has 
foretold;  and  worst,  perhaps,  of  all  enemies  is  the 
supineness  of  what  is  called  "  the  best  element  in 
the  community  " — amongst  all  sins  surely  one  of  the 
basest,  and  in  a  case  like  the  present  amounting  to 
actual  criminality. 

There  was  a  certain  portion  of  the  county  in  which 
the  influence  of  the  Reverend  William  Atherton, 
exerted  of  course  for  Berry,  had  not  been  wasted.  It 
had  told  with  men  who  "  had  no  use  for  sheriffs,  any 
way  "  ;  who  were  indifferent  or  unintelligent ;  who  had 
no  interests  at  stake;  or  who,  in  common  with  too 
many  other  nominally  excellent  citizens,  regarded  all 
public  questions  as  beneath  their  notice.  To  this 
collection  of  promising  scions  of  democracy  must  be 
added  the  merely  ignorant  or  ineffectually  pious — 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        255 

those  who  cherished  a  vague  belief  that  to  walk  with 
"  the  minister,"  politically  or  otherwise,  is  to  make  one 
step  nearer  heaven.  Mr.  Atherton's  partisanship 
was,  in  short,  of  such  a  character  that  even  Sylvia's 
cultivated  liberality  could  no  longer  tolerate  either 
it  or  him ;  a  circumstance  of  which  his  dull  sensibilities 
finally  made  him  aware,  and  which  he  was  now  resent 
ing  after  his  own  manner. 

The  convention  had  scarcely  begun  its  sitting  when 
Cristol,  like  the  old  war-horse  that  he  was,  scented  a 
fray.  But  the  opposition  had  been  too  carefully 
planned.  He  was  powerless  and  trapped.  The  Berry 
faction  was  enormous,  comprising  as  it  did  an  inex 
haustible  family  as  well  as  numerous  outsiders  held 
in  bondage  to  Berry  for  reasons  various,  financial  and 
worse.  A  man  may  be  loathed  and  despised,  and  yet 
in  certain  sections  of  this  great  country  may  wield 
tremendous  power. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  Cristol  discovered  that  the 
political  leaders  of  the  convention  had  been  "  got  at." 
The  whole  affair  swept  like  a  cyclone  through  the 
town  of  frame  houses;  and  when  it  had  passed 
scarcely  a  man  of  Cristol's  faction  was  left  alive.  To 
all  intents  and  purposes  Berry  was  not  merely  nomi 
nated,  but  elected.  It  was  the  same  as  regarded  other 
men  of  his  colour,  for  offices  hardly  less  important 


256        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

than  that  of  sheriff.  It  was  a  clear  case  of  railroad 
ing  motions  through  a  convention. 

Yet,  like  Goliath  of  old,  the  oppostion  had  reckoned 
without  its  David.  When  this  modern  David  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and  in  language  tense  and  vigorous  de 
nounced  the  assembly  as  lawless,  and  its  proceedings 
as  unparliamentary,  his  equally  tense  and  vigorous 
figure  dominated  for  a  while  the  entire  convention; 
not  by  physical  bulk  or  by  means  of  the  voice  of  a 
bull,  but  by  the  force  and  intensity  of  the  man.  His 
eyes,  darkening  as  always  when  under  the  sway  of 
emotion,  seemed  to  burn  each  lifted  face  as  they  flashed 
and  passed ;  his  eloquence,  never  windy  or  vapouring, 
was  condensed  now  to  white  heat.  Whether  he  would 
or  no,  every  man  present  lent  his  ear,  and  there  was  not 
one  among  them  who,  of  David  Kingdon,  had  expected 
this. 

It  was  his  first  public  effort,  if  effort  such  fire  and 
flame  can  be  called.  And  there  was  but  one  person 
in  the  world  who,  had  she  been  there  to  hear  and  see, 
would  have  felt  no  surprise — the  woman  who  loved 
him,  and  had  always  believed  in  him. 

It  was  a  paltry  stage  and  a  petty  occasion,  perhaps ; 
yet  is  anything  paltry  or  petty  when  a  man  fulfils 
himself? 

When  the  brief  and  impassioned  speech  closed,  as 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        257 

abruptly  as  it  had  opened,  chaos  engulfed  the  assem 
bly.  For  a  time  it  appeared  as  though  a  free  fight 
were  imminent.  Accusation  and  recrimination  rent 
the  air,  already  foul  with  the  fumes  of  whisky  and 
tobacco  of  many  days'  generation.  Again  David  was 
on  his  feet,  and  again  his  voice  rang  out  like  a  clarion, 
calling  on  all  who  loved  honour,  law,  and  freedom  to 
follow  him. 

A  sudden  hush  fell  on  the  convention.  Even 
Cristol,  standing  at  the  speaker's  right  hand,  was 
momentarily  stunned  by  this  amazing  leap  to  leader 
ship  of  him  whose  powers  had  been  hidden  from  his 
nearest  friends,  from  all  but  the  one  woman. 

Hesitation  was  short-lived.  As  though  animated 
by  one  soul,  a  small  yet  sufficiently  influential  body 
of  men  left  the  hall  in  the  wake  of  Kingdon  and 
Cristol. 

The  mass  of  the  community  might  be  inert  and 
corrupt;  but,  the  best  element  once  earnestly  banded 
together,  for  the  lowest  element  there  was  danger 
ahead.  This  fact  the  latter  were  not  slow  to  recog 
nise;  and  now  the  fight  was  to  begin — the  real  fight 
for  supremacy. 

Such  revolutions  are  not  necessarily  of  enduring 
quality,  partaking  doubtless  of  the  hysterical  char 
acter  of  religious  revivals;  but  occasionally  they 


258        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

accomplish  something.  Fortunately  this  one  was  only 
called  upon  to  endure  four  days. 

As,  after  leaving  the  hall,  the  men  crowded  around 
to  shake  their  new  leader  by  the  hand,  it  was  Cristol 
alone,  the  veteran  seamed  and  scarred  by  war's  ex 
perience,  who  sounded  the  note  of  warning. 

"It's  been  tried  before,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand 
affectionately  on  David's  shoulder — "over  to  Los 
Amigos.  And  it  failed.  Independence  and  principle 
ain't  worth  a  cent  here;  it's  all  dollars  and  dirt,  and 
don't  you  forget  it !  " 

"You  won't  go  back  on  me,  John?  " 

"Go  back  on  you?"  Cristol  swore  a  little  oath. 
"  Not  quite,  my  boy !  I'm  here  to  play  the  cards  for 
all  they're  worth ;  and  I'm  in  to  win,  too,  if  winning's 
in  it." 

The  evidence  in  regard  to  purchased  votes  did  not, 
as  Cristol  rather  anticipated,  count  for  much.  Men 
whose  shoulders  were  accustomed  to  shrug  at  such 
treachery  in  open  fight  shrugged  them  now.  What 
was  to  be  done  about  it?  The  bribery  law  was  prac 
tically  null  and  void  in  a  community  where  the  price 
of  any  jury  ranged  from  fifty  dollars  upward. 

But  cattle-stealing  was  another  matter.  Cattle 
men  who  had  been  raging  for  months  in  futile  wrath, 
and  suspicion  worse  than  futile,  flew  to  arms.  There 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         259 

was  no  necessity  to  call  up  witnesses ;  the  paper 
Cristol  held  served  to  inflame  them.  The  sheriff  knew 
that  he  was  tampering  with  dynamite;  knew  that  he 
was  stirring  up  dead  issues  as  well  as  live  ones ;  but, 
habituated  in  his  vocation  to  take  chances  and  to 
handle  desperate  men,  imbued,  too,  with  the  Western 
spirit  in  regard  to  the  unsurpassed  criminality  of 
meddling  with  your  neighbour's  ox  or  ass,  he  troubled 
himself  no  whit.  If  he  could  get  the  offender  or  of 
fenders  not  merely  brought  to  the  bar,  but  sentenced, 
he  felt  that  his  life's  work  would  be  well  done ;  and  in 
order  to  accomplish  something  more  than  a  mere 
profitless  capture  of  criminals,  public  opinion  must 
be  aroused. 

Never  had  such  a  "  revival "  been  witnessed  before 
in  the  history  of  that  section.  It  gathered  in  men 
of  both  parties,  men  of  none:  the  best  element  which 
lazily  accepted  the  nomination  of  its  political  party, 
or  simply  murmured  that  all  was  vanity  and  abstained 
from  casting  its  vote;  men  who  drifted  because  they 
considered  all  human  effort  wasted  in  any  endeavour 
to  stem  the  tide  of  political  corruption ;  all  the  flotsam 
and  jetsam  of  a  voting  community  was  dragged  in, 
spurred  and  fired  by  Kingdon's  tremendous  enthu 
siasm,  backing  the  fury  of  the  cattle-men. 

It  was  as  if  all  the  repressed  emotions  of  the  past 


260         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

year  and  a  half  had  broken  loose  in  David.  Nothing 
seemed  able  to  withstand  such  force. 

Cristol  found  time  to  write  a  note  to  Sylvia,  and 
cheer  her  with  the  news  of  the  good  results  of  that 
effort  which  had  cost  her  so  much.  He  did  this  the 
more  willingly,  knowing  the  barrier  which  prevented 
even  the  exchange  of  letters  betwixt  David  and  Sylvia. 
But  he  told  David  what  he  had  done. 

In  those  four  days  it  was  vain  for  the  croakers  to 
croak.  The  high  tide  of  enthusiasm  ignored  whisky- 
drugged  Mexicans  corralled  by  the  opposition  in  order 
to  obtain  their  "  straight  vote "  on  election-day, 
ignored  all  the  old  tricks  of  the  tricky  game  of 
politics.  The  Independents  were  sick  not  only  of  the 
old  tricks,  but  of  the  worn-out  political  treadmill,  and 
gloried  in  the  vigour  and  eloquence  of  their  new 
leader. 

As  he  had  won  languid  clubmen  in  New  York,  so  he 
won,  now  that  he  desired  to  do  so,  rural  spirits  who 
needed  the  spur  to  the  full  as  badly.  And  of  him 
of  whom  it  may  be  said  that  he  can  win  men  to  a  strong 
respect  and  liking  there  is,  as  a  rule,  not  very  much 
that  is  evil  to  be  told.  The  liking  of  the  average 
woman,  given  a  personality  such  as  that  of  David 
Kingdon,  is  not,  after  all,  much  of  a  feather  in  a 
man's  cap. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        261 

Yet  the  liking  of  woman  came  in  oddly  enough  at 
this  period.  Molly  Fisher,  concerning  whom  Berry 
had  gloriously  lied  when  he  said  that  she  had  married 
and  settled  down,  descended  upon  the  county  town 
to  do  battle  in  her  own  way  for  the  cause  repre 
sented  by  him  whom,  in  her  innocent  girlhood,  she  had 
secretly  loved.  Despair  drove  her  to  the  man  who 
later  betrayed  and  deserted  her,  and  in  rushing  to 
enrol  herself  under  David's  standard  she  felt  that 
she  was  avenging  his  wrongs  with  her  own.  For  had 
it  not  been  Vin  Berry's  father — Vin,  who  had  treated 
her  with  all  the  baseness  of  his  kind — who  had  black 
ened  the  character  of  the  man  who  toward  her  had  been 
only  too  blameless?  Therefore  it  was  that  one  day 
she  descended  upon  the  town  and  proclaimed  upon 
the  house-tops  the  story  of  her  wrongs. 

To  David  it  mattered  nothing  at  all  whether  or  no 
he  were  cleared  of  old  accusations.  Sylvia  knew  of 
the  whole  affair  from  the  beginning;  and  Clairette 
was  better  engaged  at  present,  and,  moreover,  as  we 
have  seen,  ceased  to  associate  with  the  citizens  of  the 
Territory. 

The  days  and  nights — for  who  amongst  the  war 
riors  slept  all  night? — wore  on,  hour  by  hour. 

And  Cristol  marvelled  continually  as  he  beheld  his 
inexperienced  ally  wearing  out  opposition  by  his 


262         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

ceaseless  energy,  or  by  his  tact  disarming  it;  riding 
pellmell  over  his  enemies  when  necessary;  proving 
himself,  in  short,  a  born  conqueror  as  well  as  leader 
of  men.  Unable  to  command  his  own  destiny  or  con 
quer  fate  for  himself,  he  was  conquering  for  his 
friend.  And  none  but  himself  knew  who  was  answer 
able  for  all  this.  Even  in  the  heat  of  this,  his  first 
battle,  David  recognised  to  whom  he  owed  his 
success.  It  was  to  the  ennobling  influence  of  the 
woman  with  whom  he  had  for  one  short  year  lived  in 
the  closest  association  this  world  can  give;  to  her  he 
owed  the  uplifting  of  his  whole  nature;  the  gradual 
disentanglement  from  the  bonds  of  much  that  had  been 
trivial  and  unworthy ;  the  planting  of  a  moral  stand 
ard  which,  up  to  the  time  of  his  association  with  her, 
had  never  before  flown  to  the  breeze  at  such  an  alti 
tude.  Not  only  all  this  he  owed  to  her,  but  also  the 
development  of  gifts  which,  but  for  her,  might  have 
lain  forever  in  disuse. 

And  David  did  not  forget;  he  was  not  of  the  for 
getting  kind.  And  yet — had  it  not  been  the  hand  of 
the  woman  who  loved  him,  not  with  the  blind  and 
foolish  passion  apt  to  end  in  domestic  discord  or  the 
divorce-court,  but  with  a  noble  and  believing  love — 
had  it  not  been  her  hand  that  had  thrust  him  into  the 
furnace  seven  times  heated,  out  of  which  a  man  comes 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         263 

as  the  fine  gold  that  rings  true  or  the  dross  fit  only 
for  the  dump-heap  ?  This  had  she  done,  and  it  was  to 
this  that  she  had  abandoned  him. 

And  it  was  now  that  he  was  remembering — now,  of 
all  times!  In  the  bare  and  sordid  room  leading  out 
of  the  large  apartment  where  was  congregated  the 
rest  of  his  party,  awaiting  the  election  returns,  there 
David  sat,  and  thought  of  Sylvia.  Every  one  was 
worn  out,  or  more  or  less  drunk.  David  was  neither, 
but  reaction  and  its  accompanying  depression  were 
already  upon  him. 

Cristol,  glancing  into  the  room  and  seeing  him 
drooping  in  his  chair,  above  the  rail  of  which  only 
the  back  of  his  head  was  visible,  shut  the  door  again, 
believing  him  to  be  asleep ;  but  had  he  walked  around 
so  as  to  face  his  friend,  he  would  have  perceived  that 
his  eyes  were  wide  and  fixed — that  he  was  merely 
dreaming.  He  was  seeing  visions.  He  was  at  the 
mountain  ranch,  standing  upright  and  very  much 
awake  in  front  of  Sylvia,  looking  down  at  her;  and 
she  was  nodding  her  fair  head  and  smiling  up  into 
his  face.  "  Yes,"  she  was  saying ;  "  I've  got  a  career 
all  marked  out  for  you!  Just  wait  awhile,  and  I'll 
tell  you  what  it  is ! " 

So  vivid  was  the  dream  that  he  started  to  his  feet, 
and  it  was  with  one  of  his  old  brilliant  smiles  that  he 


264        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

turned  to  greet  his  re-entering  friend,  together  with 
the  exultant  roar  from  the  outer  room. 

"Ah,  I  see  you're  already  posted!"  exclaimed 
Cristol,  misunderstanding  the  smile.  And  drawing  his 
arm  through  his  own,  he  led  the  leader  forth  to 
receive  the  congratulations  of  the  party  he  had  led  to 
victory. 

Cristol  was  re-elected  sheriff  of  the  county  by 
exactly  ten  votes — a  somewhat  tempered  triumph  for 
the  man  who  had  served  it  faithfully  for  two  long 
years. 

But  then,  as  Mrs.  Johnson  was  fond  of  observing: 

"  Them  as  sets  down  and  waits  for  thank-yous  in 
this  world  has  got  all  the  waitin'  they  can  ask  fur; 
they  can  wait  I " 


CHAPTER  XXI 

K1STLESS?"  exclaimed  Johnny,  repeating 
herself,  for  no  one  had  uttered  the  word. 
"Restless  ain't  the  word!  I  never  know'd 
before  as  Davie  could  git  poor  in  the  face,  but  he'll 
be  that  ef  he  keeps  to  the  gait  he's  started  on.  You 
know  as  he's  deputy  now,  an'  him  an'  Cristol's  got  it 
down  ag'in  the  Berry  lot  for  all  that's  in  it.  There'll 
be  big  doin's  in  the  mountains  this  comin'  year,  or 
my  name's  not  Polly  Johnson !  " 

Johnny  caught  up  a  newspaper  and  fanned  her 
self,  although  it  was  midwinter.  Sylvia  smiled,  and 
took  the  rattling  thing  away — an  action  wholly 
unobserved  on  Johnny's  part,  who  was  still  election 
eering  in  fancy.  She  had  worked  hard  for  John 
Cristol,  and  her  influence  had  borne  fruits.  Now  she 
had  come  to  Rosalia  Valley  to  tell  her  tale  to  Sylvia 
and  to  hug  the  baby. 

After  she  had  simmered  down,  Sylvia  broached  the 
subject  of  David's  unexpected  visit  and  her  decision 
in  regard  to  little  Davie.  The  information  reduced 
Johnny  to  silence,  even  as  it  had  done  CristoL  At 
last  she  said: 

265 


266        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  What  a  awful,  awful  resk ! "  shaking  her  head. 
"An5  it  was  Dick  an'  Aunt  Julie  as  done  it?  Well, 
you  see  as  I  wa'n't  so  fur  out  when  I  lay  low  to  that 
Dick!" 

"Don't  be  hard  on  him,  Johnny.  He  meant  no 
harm;  and  in  a  way  I  think  he  is  right." 

"As  how,  dearie?" 

"  In  this  way.  David  has  nothing ;  I  have  the  boy. 
David  had  his  rights.  That's  the  way  Dick  rea 
soned,  no  doubt." 

"  And  what  are  you  a-goin'  to  do  about  it  ?  " 

There  was  a  tinge  of  anxiety  in  the  faithful 
woman's  voice. 

"  Johnny !  "  Sylvia  laid  her  delicate  hand  on  her 
friend's  large  knee,  and  looked  her  straight  in  the 
eyes.  Then  she  paused,  her  own  eyes  deep  with 
emotion  and  her  lips  trembling. 

"  What  is  it,  my  dearie  ?  "  said  Johnny  again. 

"I  have  written  to  Mr.  Hendrick.  He  knows 
everything.  He  told  me  to  come  to  him  in  any 
difficulty.  I  have  said  to  him  what  I  say  to  you ;  the 
boy's  father  has  his  rights,  and  I  have  asked  Mr. 
Hendrick  if  he  will  help  me  to  see  that  he  has  them. 
I  think  he  is  sure  to  approve  the  plan  I  have 
suggested." 

"  And  what  may  that  be,  dearie  ?  " 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         267 

"That  Aunt  Julie  shall  take  little  Davie  to  the 
Rectory  at  Mendoza  City  at  such  intervals  as  Mr. 
Hendrick  and  his  wife  shall  judge  proper,  and  that 
David  shall  see  the  child  there." 

Johnny  moved  her  head  dubiously. 

"  And  what's  all  the  devout  church-members 
a-goin'  to  say  to  it,  anyhow?  They  ain't  never 
a-goin'  to  rest  tel  they  knows  the  whys  and  where 
fores  of  little  Davie,  and  have  basted  on  frills  and 
trimmin's  to  suit  theyselves." 

Sylvia's  face  clouded.  In  scheming  thus  to  con 
tribute  to  David's  happiness  she  had  been  almost 
happy  herself. 

However,  Mr.  Hendrick's  reply  to  her  letter  proved 
entirely  satisfactory ;  if  he  pointed  out  difficulties, 
he  showed  himself  ready  to  try  to  smooth  them  away. 
He  acknowledged,  though  in  less  strenuous  language, 
the  existence  of  obstacles  such  as  had  been  brought 
forward  by  Johnny,  but  deferred  them  for  future 
consideration;  they  were  not  likely  to  interfere  with 
one  meeting  at  least.  He  wrote  that  he  would 
immediately  arrange  with  Mr.  Kingdon  to  visit  him 
at  the  Rectory,  at  a  date  fixed  for  a  week  hence;  if 
Mr.  Kingdon  was  able  to  keep  the  appointment,  he 
would  notify  Mrs.  Archibald  to  send  the  baby  and 
nurse;  and  at  that  meeting  further  plans  could  be 


268        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

talked  over.  Mr.  Hendrick  further  added  that  he 
entirely  agreed  with  the  mother  of  the  child  that  the 
father  should  have  access  to  it  whenever  he  "  could 
do  so  without  hurting  the  feelings,  or  bringing  sorrow 
into  the  life,  of  any  other  person  for  whose  comfort 
he  was  at  this  time  responsible." 

So  the  matter  was  arranged,  and  with  mixed 
emotions  Sylvia  stood  watching  the  train  glide  from 
the  station,  carrying  little  Davie  to  a  meeting  in  whose 
joys  she  could  have  no  share. 

On  the  following  day  Aunt  Julie  returned  tri 
umphant. 

"Now  Mis',  ain't  I  done  tole  you  so?"  she  ex 
claimed,  as  soon  as  she  and  her  precious  charge  were 
settled  in  the  buggy  and  the  little  party  were  rolling 
homewards.  "  I  done  tole  you-all  as  Marse  Davie 
ought  to  have  a  sesso  to  dis  chile,  an'  you  say  no. 
But  fur  de  ole  black  Mammy  an'  dat  triflin'  Dick, 
Marse  ain't  hyar  nuffin'  'bout  no  chile;  an'  yet  he 
jes  as  humble  an'  thankful  to  set  his  eyes  on  him  's 
ef  he  wa'n't  none  o'  his.  I  tell  you,  Mis',  as  et  wa'n't 
no  ways  right  to  hide  de  boy  de  way  you-all 
done!" 

To  argue  with  an  imperious  coloured  lady  concern 
ing  subjects  of  morality  as  abstruse  as  the  present 
one  would  have  been  to  expend  energy  very  uneco- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        269 

nomically;  so  the  white  woman  merely  smiled  and 
answered  nothing. 

"  An'  Mis'  Hendrick,"  proceeded  Aunt  Julie,  pull 
ing  down  the  baby's  skirts  with  vigorous  hand  and 
straightening  his  hat — "  she  mighty  fine  lady !  They 
all  real,  sure-enough  white  folks,  anyhow!  Marse, 
he  done  tote  dis  chile  pretty  near  all  de  time,  an' 
little  Davie,  he  mighty  sot  on  his  pa;  he  holler  good 
an'  loud  when  Marse  tell  him  good-bye.  An' 
now,  Mis',  don't  you  never  allow  no  mo'  as  de  ole 
Mammy  ain't  got  no  jedgment  an'  don't  know 
nuffin'." 

"  I  won't,  Aunt  Julie,"  rejoined  the  mistress, 
meekly. 

A  month  later,  at  David's  earnest  request,  the  visit 
was  repeated.  The  next  morning's  mail  brought 
Sylvia  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Hendrick  setting  forth  that 
Mr.  Hendrick  had  been  hurriedly  called  away  to  a 
sick  person  up  the  road,  and  that  he  had  departed 
before  the  arrival  of  the  nurse  and  child  the  previous 
day;  that  she,  Mrs.  Hendrick,  had  opened  a  note 
addressed  to  her  husband  and  brought  by  a  Mexican ; 
that  this  note  was  from  Mr.  Kingdon,  although  she 
was  not  familiar  with  his  handwriting,  Mr.  Hendrick 
having  always  taken  the  precaution  to  destroy  any 
note  received  from  Mr.  Kingdon  in  which  he  alluded 


270        THE   HUMAN  TOUCH 

to  the  child;  that  in  the  present  letter  Mr.  Kingdon 
said  that  his  duties  as  deputy  prevented  him  from 
coming  to  the  city,  but  instead  begged  that  Mr. 
Hendrick  would  send  the  nurse  and  baby  by  train 
to — mentioning  a  small  station — at  which  place  Dick 
would  be  in  waiting  with  a  spring  wagon  to  convey 
them  to  Cristol's  ranch  in  the  San  Juan  Pass ;  at 
the  ranch  he,  David,  would  arrive  that  same  evening. 
The  writer  further  begged  that  Mr.  Hendrick  would 
communicate  the  change  of  plan  to  the  child's  mother, 
and  notify  her  that  the  child  would  be  a  day  late  in 
returning  to  her,  and  would  come  by  wagon  through 
the  Pass  to  Rosalia  Valley. 

It  was  heavenly  March  weather,  dropped  in  between 
spring  gales.  The  air,  soft  yet  invigorating,  touched 
the  cheek  like  a  kind,  familiar  hand.  High  tides 
of  colour  were  surging  swiftly  through  the  alfalfa, 
slowly  through  the  orchards ;  and  birds  of  divers  hues 
streaked  an  azure  background  with  scarlet,  gold,  and 
blue,  hurrying  past  on  nesting  business  bent;  or 
crowned  here  and  there  some  bare  tree-top,  like  jewels 
fallen  from  unseen,  careless  fingers. 

No ;  in  such  weather  there  was  no  fear  for  the  child. 
And  yet 

There  was  no  fear;  but  it  came  to  pass  that  for 
two  days  Sylvia  rode  in  one  direction  only — miles 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        271 

up  on  the  mesa,  from  whence  she  could  watch  the 
entrance  to  the  San  Juan  Pass. 

That  he  might  be  a  day  or  so  late  was  to  be 
expected,  David's  duties  being  both  peremptory  and 
uncertain ;  yet  on  the  second  day  she  rode  to  the  very 
foot  of  the  hills  which  on  this  side  of  the  range  rolled 
along  the  base  of  the  mountains. 

She  expected  nothing.  Nevertheless,  the  furious 
galloping  of  a  horse  upon  the  hard  trail  leading  from 
the  Pass  sent  the  blood  to  her  face,  and  her  heart 
pounding  in  her  ears.  Even  in  a  country  where  furi 
ous  galloping  is  the  common  habit  of  the  laziest  of 
its  inhabitants,  it  takes  long  before  the  pulses  of  the 
unaccustomed  cease  to  leap  to  the  thrill  and  rush  of 
frantic  hoofs. 

Sylvia,  who  expected  nothing,  stood  up  in  her 
stirrup,  and  shading  her  eyes  from  the  dazzling 
sunlight,  watched  with  beating  heart  the  entrance  to 
the  Pass. 

It  was  with  a  sense  of  vague  disappointment  that 
she  sank  again  in  the  saddle. 

The  horseman  rounding  the  curve  was  only  the 
mail-carrier.  On  seeing  Sylvia,  with  whom  of  course 
he  was  acquainted,  he  pulled  his  beast  down  to  a  walk, 
and,  held  perhaps  by  the  dumb  questioning  in  her 
eyes,  paused  at  her  side. 


272        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  Good-morning,  Mrs.  Archibald.  Is  there  any 
thing  I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 

Sylvia  hesitated.  The  answer  to  the  question  she 
longed,  yet  dreaded  to  put,  might  be  too  merciless. 
Womanlike,  she  tried  to  evade  it. 

"  How  much  further  is  it  to  the  Cristol  ranch,  Mr. 
James  ?  " 

"  The  Cristol  ranch?  A  good  ten  mile ;  and  you've 
made  pretty  nigh  ten  already.  If  you'll  excuse  me, 
the  Cristol  place  is  entirely  too  far  and  lonesome  a 
ride  for  a  lady." 

She  turned  her  horse,  and  rode  alongside  of  the 
mail-carrier  in  silence  for  a  while. 

"Did  you  want  a  message  taken  to  John,  Mrs. 
Archibald?  Because  if  it's  so  as  you  do,  I  go  by 
his  ranch  again  to-morrow  and  can  carry  it.  He 
ain't  there  to-day.  I  turned  out  for  a  drink  of  water 
— that's  what  delayed  me  some — for  his  man  was 
'way  off  makin'  him  a  spring-garden.  Spring-garden 
indeed,  says  I,  when  a  spring's  all  the  folks  has  to 
do  their  irrigatin'  with!  As  there  wa'n't  no  one 
around,  and  the  house  locked,  I  got  behind,  and  was 
hurryin'  to  make  up  time  through  the  Pass.  I'm  all 
right  now,  though,"  he  added,  comfortably. 

No  one  around!  Sylvia  moistened  her  dry  lips, 
before  she  could  speak ;  even  then  the  man  had  to  ask 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        278 

her  to  repeat  the  low  words  ere  he  could  catch  their 
purport. 

"  No ;  as  I  say,  th'  ain't  no  manner  of  use  in  your 
try  in'  that  awful  long  trip,  if  so  be  as  it's  Cristol 
you  want  to  see.  His  man  was  real  glad  to  palaver 
with  me  awhile;  said  as  'twas  mighty  lonesome  at  the 
ranch,  Cristol  not  there  inside  o'  two  weeks,  an'  not 
a  soul  to  trade  words  with,  savin'  it  might  be  a  Mexi 
can  cowboy  or  me  too  much  pressed  to  stop.  Got  to 
make  tracks,  Mrs.  Archibald?  It's  that  kid  as  you've 
got  to  the  house,  of  course !  And  ain't  he  a  buster, 
though  ?  I  know ;  ain't  been  a  family  man  these 
dozen  years  for  nothin'.  Push  on,  then,"  concluded 
the  kind-hearted  Southerner ;  "  don't  mind  me.  I'm 
better  than  on  time,  so  me  an'  Pete  can  take  things 
easy." 

Only  necessity  could  condone  the  gait  at  which 
Sylvia  sent  her  horse  plunging  down  through  the 
deep  sand  of  the  mesa.  Yet  why  was  she  thus  hurry 
ing?  What  could  she  do? 

Even  in  this  hour,  which  brought  with  it  at  first 
rather  bewilderment  than  poignant  anxiety,  she  was 
sufficiently  mistress  of  herself  to  remember ;  it  needed 
not  Mr.  Hendrick's  warning  to  bid  her  forbear. 

"  Do  nothing  to  hurt  the  feelings  or  bring  sorrow 
into  the  life  of  the  other  woman." 


274        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

That  was  what  he  had  in  effect  said.  And  Sylvia 
remembered. 

Something  must  be  done.  Yet  what  could  be  done 
by  her,  Sylvia,  not  only  alone,  but  hampered  by  that 
mandate  which  her  own  soul  called  upon  her  to  obey 
— until?  Until  the  limit  of  human  endurance  should 
be  reached.  And  that  limit  is  wider  set  than  we 
know. 

Her  horse  was  moving  along  now  at  a  gentle, 
cradling  single-foot,  which  presently  at  her  half 
unconscious  signal  dropped  to  a  walk,  then  fell  to 
a  dead  stop. 

She  took  off  her  glove  and  swept  her  hand  help 
lessly  across  her  hot  brow.  The  mother  within  her 
was  arising,  annihilating  in  its  insistence  common 
sense,  self-control,  all  that  in  this  hour  the  woman 
most  needed  if  she  was  to  remain  faithful  to  her  trust. 

And  in  the  great  stillness  of  the  desert's  remoteness 
she  was  alone.  How  few  of  us  have  grasped  the  full 
meaning  of  that  bitter  word ! 

The  horse  pulled  at  a  grease-wood  bush,  shaking 
his  bit ;  the  saddle  creaked ;  beyond  these  trivial  noises 
not  a  sound.  She  leaned  over  her  saddle-bow,  staring 
at  the  drab  sand. 

A  low  butte  projected  itself  between  her  and  the 
valley,  its  shadow  cutting  clear  and  sharp  across  the 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        273 

trail.  And  the  mother,  whose  child  was  lost,  was 
sitting  gazing  at  it  as  if  the  world  contained  nothing 
better ! 

Suddenly  she  lifted  her  head,  her  eyes  sweeping 
the  expanse  of  wide  green  vale.  Throughout  its 
length  and  breadth  there  was  not  one  living  being 
to  whom  she  could  turn.  For  the  other  woman's  sake 
she  had  shut  herself  from  human  intercourse,  human 
aid. 

Where  is  the  child? 

It  was  the  mother-cry  again,  rending  the  heart, 
tearing  soul  and  body,  the  force  that  makes  mad 
with  intent  to  destroy. 

Bowed  once  more  upon  her  horse's  neck,  the  woman 
strove  with  herself,  with  this  wild  self  that  it  was 
her  lot  to  grip  by  the  throat,  to  crush  into  submission. 
She  had  done  it  before ;  it  was  to  be  done  again. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  straightened  her  body  in  the 
saddle,  and  rode  on,  down  into  the  valley. 

Certain  things  were  possible.  David  might  have 
met  the  Mammy  and  the  boy  part  way,  and  have  taken 
them  somewhere  else ;  or  the  meeting  might  have  come 
off  as  planned,  in  the  San  Juan  Pass,  and  the  nurse 
and  baby  have  been  sent  back  by  way  of  Mendoza 
City. 

These  things  were  possible,  but  unlikely. 


276        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

As  Sylvia  crossed  the  railroad  close  to  the  little 
depot  she  wheeled  her  horse,  dismounted,  and  entered 
the  telegraph  office. 

And  what  then?  How  flash  along  the  wires  her 
anxiety,  her  loss? — inquire  the  whereabouts  of  that 
father,  that  child  ?  And  added  to  this  was  the  shrink 
ing,  innate  in  a  person  of  Sylvia's  temperament  and 
breeding,  from  proclaiming  her  woes  to  the  com 
munity  at  large. 

But  she  must  write  something,  no  matter  what. 
The  message  was  to  Mrs.  Hendrick,  and  ran  thus : 

"I  am  still  waiting.  Have  you  any  news  for 
me?" 

The  operator,  actuated  as  well  by  good-nature  as 
desire  for  his  dinner,  told  her  not  to  worry  about  pay 
ing;  she  could  bring  her  pocketbook  when  she  called 
for  the  answer ;  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  lead  her 
horse  up  to  the  platform  that  she  might  remount  the 
more  easily.  Even  this  trifling  attention  to  her  wants 
brought  comfort,  and  hoping  for  a  cheering  reply 
to  the  despatch,  Sylvia  rode  swiftly  home  to  the  dinner 
she  naturally  enough  failed  to  eat — to  the  vast  dis 
comfiture  of  Delphina,  the  Mexican  woman  filling 
Anut  Julie's  place. 

The  reply  she  found  at  the  office  late  that  after 
noon  ran  as  follows: 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        277 

"  We  know  nothing  more.     Look  out  for  letter  to 
morrow.     Come  to  us  if  you  will.     We  are  at  your 


service." 


The  operator  watched  her  curiously,  as  she  refolded 
the  despatch  and  placed  it  carefully  in  its  envelope, 
after  handing  him  the  charges  due.  But  he  could 
make  nothing  of  this  woman ;  no  one  in  Rosalia  could. 
Her  face  was  as  a  mask.  It  is  possible  that  she  felt 
nothing ;  the  effort  to  betray  nothing  produces  some 
times  singular  results. 

She  drove  home,  went  herself  to  the  corral  in  order 
to  see  that  Estevan  neglected  no  detail  in  his  care 
for  the  Boy. 

Then  she  entered  the  dusky  house,  and  sat  down. 

Neatly  arranged  upon  a  shelf  were  the  toys  of 
little  Davie ;  in  a  corner  the  low  chair  which,  inspired 
by  a  recently  developed  ambition  to  walk,  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  propelling  recklessly  across  the  room  in 
search  of  adventures. 

The  effort  to  maintain  self-control,  to  guard  her 
secret,  had  by  this  time  outgrown  normal  proportions ; 
like  other  morbid  growths,  it  was  dominating  feeling 
— or  rather,  still  held  the  wild  thing  down  by  the 
throat. 

Yet  that  wild  self  possessed  a  lawless  strength  of 
its  own,  despite  its  apparent  subjugation;  it  had  long 


278        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

ere  this  dismissed  probabilities.  The  letter  to  Mrs. 
Hendrick  was  by  it  adjudged  a  forgery,  the  whole 
scheme  a  fraud.  But  if  so,  then  where  was  David? 

The  sudden  question  acted  like  a  searchlight  cast 
into  a  dim  and  empty  space.  Sylvia  sprang  to  her 
feet. 

David!  She  was  no  longer  alone.  In  spirit  she 
flung  the  cruel  hand  from  her  throat.  She  was  free ! 
Somewhere  in  the  wide  and  now  moonlight  desert, 
somewhere  in  the  deep  canons  of  the  mountains,  he 
awaited  her.  Together  they  were  to  search  for  the 
child. 

But  though  she  had  broken  loose,  she  had  not 
altogether  lost  her  wits.  There  was  but  one  horse 
staunch  enough  for  her  purpose,  and  rest  and  food 
were  for  him  a  necessity.  Delphina  and  Estevan  were 
dismissed,  and  Sylvia  had  forced  herself  to  eat,  had 
even  stretched  a  body  apparently  incapable  of  fatigue 
for  a  restless  ten  minutes  upon  the  lounge,  before  she 
made  her  start. 

She  took  no  thought  of  the  letter ;  there  is  no  claim 
made  that  she  was  at  present  a  reasonable  being. 
Neither  will  it  ever  be  known  how  far  she  rode.  Twice 
her  horse's  hoofs  resounded  on  the  rocks  of  the  San 
Juan  Pass. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        279 

Once  she  went  by  the  Cristol  ranch  in  the  night, 
and  there  were  no  friendly  lights  in  the  windows ; 
once  at  high  noon,  and  not  a  living  being  was 
in  sight.  She  watered  her  horse  there;  that  much 
was  known,  as  the  tracks  of  his  small  round  hoofs  in 
the  mud  around  the  spring  were  visible  for  many 
days;  and  she  fed  him  too,  for  oats  lay  scattered 
upon  the  ground  not  far  from  the  ranch.  But  be 
yond  that  nothing  was  ever  known  of  those  twenty- 
four  hours  of  wandering.  She  herself  had  thereafter 
no  tale  to  tell.  There  are  times  in  some  lives  when  the 
body  to  all  intents  and  purposes  dies,  so  feeble  are 
its  claims  upon  the  spirit. 

It  was  at  sunrise  on  the  second  day  that  they  met. 
She  was  once  more  near  the  entrance  of  the  San  Juan 
Pass ;  once  more  listening,  every  sense  alert,  to  the 
furious  pounding  of  a  horse's  feet  upon  the  rocky 
trail.  She  sat  leaning  forward,  a  faint  smile  in  her 
tired  eyes  and  upon  her  drawn  mouth.  Something 
was  going  to  happen  now;  she  was  sure  of  it.  Her 
hand  gripped  the  reins  firmly,  as  he  who  awaits  the 
starter's  flag. 

It  was  thus  that  David  found  her  as  he  rounded 
the  curve. 

"  Come ! "  he  cried. 

His  hat  was  gone,  and  the  unclouded  March  sun 


280        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

beat  into  his  fierce  eyes,  upon  his  ashen  face  and  his 
dry  lips. 

It  was  as  if  they  had  never  parted.  He  grasped 
her  extended  hand,  and  the  horses  leaped  together. 
How  often  in  the  past,  a  hundred  years  ago,  had  these 
stable-companions  made  for  one  goal,  side  by  side, 
along  one  narrow  trail !  With  the  wonderful  memory 
of  their  kind  they  now,  jaded  as  both  were,  pressed 
closer,  remembering  some  dim  past;  and,  as  in  the 
past,  David's  knee  touched  Sylvia's  saddle,  and  more 
than  once  he  leaned  forward  to  restrain  with  a  touch 
upon  the  rein  the  blooded  horse  whose  speed  and  stay 
ing  powers  were  alike  telling  against  the  cow-pony. 
And  as  they  galloped,  Sylvia  swayed  in  her  seat,  and 
David,  urging  his  horse  closer  yet,  passed  a  support 
ing  arm  around  her. 

Every  now  and  again  she  alluded  to  the  child  in 
broken  phrases,  as  though  they  had  always  cared  for 
him  together.  Her  mind,  distraught  with  the  long 
strain  of  anguish  endured  alone,  wavered.  It  was, 
"  Don't  you  remember,  David  ? "  and,  "  You  were 

there  when  he "  and  the  like,  again  and  again. 

And  with  groans  that  might  not  be  uttered,  David 
lied,  and  lied  again. 

They  were  in  the  Pass,  and  halfway  up  it  a  man 
sat  on  a  horse,  straight  and  still.  It  was  John  Cris- 


tS 


Sylvia  swayed  in  her  seat,  and  David  .  .  .  passed  a  supporting 
arm  around  her. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        281 

tol.  On  catching  sight  of  the  pair  he  raised  his  hat 
and  held  it  high  above  his  head. 

An  exclamation  broke  from  David's  lips ;  Sylvia 
apparently  neither  saw  nor  heard. 

Then  Cristol  turned,  and  galloping  ahead  was 
suddenly  lost  to  view.  As  the  other  two  riders  ap 
proached  the  spot  -/here  he  had  disappeared  they 
were  confronted  by  a  sheer  wall  of  rock  rising  several 
hundred  feet  into  the  air,  and  around  which  the  trail 
bent,  going  abruptly  to  the  left. 

But  David  caught  the  Boy's  rein  once  more,  and 
it  was  to  the  right  that  both  horses  were  impelled, 
plunging  into  a  deep  gully  grown  up  with  stunted 
junipers,  and  which  in  the  season  of  the  summer  rains 
was  a  boiling  torrent.  Upon  its  now  dry  rocks  a 
spring  wagon  stood,  the  team  feeding  at  the  tail 
board.  Two  men  were  there  also,  Cristol  and  Dick. 

There  was  no  pretence  at  greeting;  but  Cristol, 
standing  beside  his  horse,  his  hand  gripping  the 
saddle-horn  as  though  in  act  to  mount,  spoke 
promptly. 

"They're  there  all  right,"  he  said,  and  his  voice 
was  low  and  stern.  "  Never  thought  they'd  have  the 
brass  to  locate  them  so  near  my  place !  But  let  me 
tell  you,  no  horse  can  make  the  trail.  I  took  it 
afoot." 


282         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

He  averted  his  eyes,  thus  evading  the  mute  ques 
tion  in  those  of  Kingdon. 

But  to  the  woman  questions  and  answers  were  alike 
superfluous.  She  said  not  a  word;  but  before  even 
David's  quickness  could  anticipate  her  action  she  had 
slipped  from  the  saddle  and  was  speeding  up  the 
gully's  side.  As  David  sprang  after  her,  Cristol 
called : 

"  You'll  see  a  narrow  path  windin'  up  through  the 
brush  to  one  side  of  the  cliff.  On  top,  sort  o'  down 
in  a  hole,  as  you  may  say,  the  hut  is.  I'm  off  now !  " 

But  sight,  or  instinct,  had  already  led  Sylvia 
aright.  Unhesitatingly  she  struck  the  path,  and 
began  the  steep  and  difficult  ascent.  The  summit  of 
the  cliff  was  reached  at  last,  and  there,  in  a  depres 
sion  in  the  ground  and  partly  concealed  by  cedars 
and  pinons,  was  a  small  house,  built  out  of  the  loose 
environing  rocks. 

Then  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  the  trail  David 
spoke. 

"Wait,  Sylvia!     Wait!" 

But  shaking  her  head,  she  broke  from  him ;  and  as 
he  entered  the  hut  the  characteristic  wail  of  the  negro 
in  distress  struck  on  his  ear,  followed  by  the  exclama 
tion  :  "  Oh,  Mis'  Sylvie !  Mis'  Sylvie,  honey ! " 

Was  that  waxen,  wasted  little  form  that  of  the 


THE    HUMAN    TOUCH         283 

splendid  boy  whom  David  had  held  but  lately  in  his 
arms  and  been  so  proud  to  call  his  own?  Alas,  of 
this  there  could  be  no  doubt ;  for  she  whom  he  had 
once  called  wife  had  caught  up  the  child  and  was 
clasping  him  passionately,  vainly,  to  her  breast. 

"  Mis'  Sylvie,"  put  in  Aunt  Julie,  gently,  "  t'ain't 
no  manner  of  use  actin'  datter  way.  Hand  de  ole 
Mammy  dat  chile.  He  'most  starved,  pore  lamb ! " 

Tenderly  she  unwound  the  clinging  arms,  and, 
sitting  down,  stretched  the  body  out  upon  her  lap, 
and  strove  once  more  to  force  a  few  drops  of  the 
milk  and  whisky  brought  by  Cristol  betwixt  the 
pale  lips.  Here  David's  deftness  was  of  service;  for 
the  back  of  Sylvia's  endurance  was  broken.  Drop 
ping  on  his  knees  beside  her  as  she  crouched  at  Aunt 
Julie's  lap,  he  sustained  her  with  one  hand,  whilst 
with  the  other  he  assisted  the  old  woman  in  a  man 
ner  which,  even  in  that  agonised  moment,  drew  from 
her  exclamations  of  admiration. 

"  Dat's  right,  Marse  Davie !  Hoi'  him  jes  so !  No 
woman  couldn't  do  no  better!  Thar  now,  hyar  him 
sigh,  de  sweet  lamb  ?  Don't  you  fret,  Mis' !  Gawd 
bless  my  boy!  He'll  be  creepin'  aroun',  foolin'  his 
ole  Mammy  yet ! " 

But  it  was  not  to  be. 

The   child   straightened  himself   upon   his   nurse's 


284        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

knee,  and  sighed  again.  Tnere  was  a  moment's  pause. 
Then  the  old  Mammy  raised  her  head  and  glanced  at 
the  two  kneeling  beside  her.  Her  eyes  were  scared, 
and  her  face,  already  gray  with  want  and  pain,  went 
grayer  yet. 

"  Oh,  Lord  Gawd  Almighty ! "  she  whispered. 

For  the  child  was  dead. 


CHAPTER    XXII 

KTNGDON'S    CROSSING,  and  the  two  men 
in  David's  sanctum,  behind  locked  doors. 
John  Cristol  had  just  arrived,  and  was 
speaking  now  in  lowered  tones. 

"  Didn't  I  know  what  was  comin'  ?  Of  course  I 
did!  The  greasers  had  been  gone  for  a  whole  day, 
the  old  woman  said;  wa'n't  no  use  in  me  wastin'  time 
huntin'  'em  then ;  went  for  the  telegraph  office,  and 
so  had  Hendrick  to  Rosalia  when  we  all  got  in  with 
the  wagon.  'Twas  all  right  for  me  to  send  you  back, 
Kingdon,  though  it  was  tough,  too ;  wouldn't  do  for 
you  to  be  down  there,  and  you  wa'n't  in  no  condition 
neither.  Tough  luck  as  Mrs.  Hendrick  couldn't  show 
up;  but  that's  a  good  man,  Kingdon,  a  right  down 
good  man !  He  stayed  with  her  three  of  four  days ; 
tried  to  have  her  go  back  with  him,  I  heard,  but  she 
wouldn't.  The  poor  old  woman  was  more'n  half  sick, 
starved  too ;  not  as  she  believes  they  meant  to  be  that 

bad,  but  food  gave  out " 

"  Don't,  Cristol— for  God's  sake,  man  ! " 
David's  hair  was  ruffled  up  all  over  his  head;  his 
fresh  colour  had  departed,  his  eyes  burned. 

285 


286        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

The  older  man  laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
felt  that  he  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot.  He 
gently  pushed  him  into  a  chair.  David  spread  his 
arms  upon  the  table,  and  dropped  his  face  upon  them. 

"  Kingdon,"  said  the  sheriff,  in  a  voice  no  "  bad 
man  "  had  ever  heard  proceed  from  his  lips,  "  King 
don,  pull  yourself  together !  Brace  up !  You'll  lose 
your  mind  if  you  give  down  this  way,  and  how's  that 
goin'  to  help  Tier?  The  poor  little  kid's  with  the 
angels,  if  all  the  good  books  tell  us  is  so;  nothin's 
goin'  to  hurt  him  no  more.  It's  her  as  you've  got  to 
think  for.  Your  chance  as  deputy  will  come  along 
after  a  while,  but  just  now  /say  this :  do  all  the  still- 
huntin'  you've  a  mind  to,  but  lay  low!  Leave  the 
rest  to  me.  And  I  swear  to  you,  David  Kingdon, 
that  as  there's  a  God  in  heaven  I'll  never  quit  till  I 
run  to  earth  the  devil  as  is  at  the  back  of  them  Mexi 
cans!  You  and  me  know  as  this  ain't  no  greasers' 
work." 

The  last  words  were  significant,  and  after  them  he 
paused.  Then  seeing  that  the  other  man  was  quiet 
now,  and  listening,  he  proceeded : 

"  You're  not  in  this  racket,  Kingdon.  You've 
acted  on  the  square  all  through;  don't  go  back  on 
yourself  now.  There's  not  a  person,  man  or  woman, 
as  I've  heard  speak  of  your  troubles  as  don't  own  up 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        287 

that  you've  done  the  square  thing  by  her" — jerking 
his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  in  the  direction  of  the 
tent ;  "  too  square,  some  say.  There's  no  gossip 
about  you  and  the  other  one,  so  they  tell  me.  It's 
straight  goods  I'm  givin'  you,  Kingdon — no  fool- 
talk." 

"Cristol,"  said  David,  at  last,  his  face  still  upon 
his  arms,  "  it's  not  myself.  It's  her,  her!  My  poor 
girl,  my  innocent  wife !  For  she  is  my  wife ! "  he 
cried  suddenly,  throwing  back  his  head  and  confront 
ing  fiercely  the  other  man's  mild  regard. 

"  She  is,  if  ever  a  woman  was,"  agreed  the  sheriff, 
with  commendable  fervency. 

"  And  she'll  die ;  she'll  die,  I  tell  you !  She  can't 
stand  it— all  alone!  Oh,  my  God!" 

John  Cristol  had  been  in  many  a  tough  place  in  his 
life,  but  this,  he  thought,  was  the  toughest. 

"  Now  see  here,  Kingdon,"  he  said,  sitting  down  on 
the  table  and  resting  his  hand  heavily  once  more  on 
the  other's  bowed  shoulder,  "  you've  got  to  pull  your 
self  together,  or  else  make  a  bonfire  of  this  whole 
business.  Which  shall  it  be?  If  you're  still  dead 
set  on  giving  that  woman " — again  indicating  the 
occupant  of  the  tent  by  a  gesture — "  her  fair,  square 
chance,  you'll  have  to  continue  acting  as  you've  done 
right  along,  like — well,  like  a  man,  /  say !  But  if 


288        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

you  want  to  pull  up  stakes  and  vamoose,  why,  I'm 
with  you  all  the  same.  Sdbe?  " 

David  shook  his  head  miserably. 

"  If  she  only  had  some  woman  with  her ! "  he  ejacu 
lated  at  last. 

"Where's  Mrs.  Johnson?" 

"  In  St.  Louis,  visiting  with  Jemmy  and  Al ;  won't 
be  back  for  another  week." 

The  sheriff  was  silent  for  a  while.  Then  he  said, 
stroking  his  moustache  meditatively: 

"I'm  not  so  sure  as  a  woman's  best  for  her  just 
now.  If  she  gives  down,  why,  that's  the  last  of  her. 
Seems  like  tough  talk,  Kingdon,  about  such  a  lady 
as  she  is,  but  it  does  look  as  if  her  only  showing  was 
not  to  lose  her  grip.  It's  all  right  for  women  to  cry 
and  talk  together  when  there's  some  help  around,  but 
when  the  only  help's  a  woman's  own  sand,  why,  let 
her  hold  on  to  it,  /  say !  Don't  start  the  waterworks 
to  wash  it  away !  It  looks  to  me  as,  with  men  around 
and  she  not  very  well  acquainted  with  them  either, 
a  lady  with  the  right  kind  of  pride,  same  as  Mrs. 
Kingdon  has,  can  hold  on  better — see  ?  " 

David  had  raised  his  head  again,  and  was  staring 
out  of  the  window.  He  nodded. 

"Will  you  trust  your  wife  to  me,  Kingdon?  I'm 
on  to  a  scheme  as  will  keep  her  head  level,  and  her 


,THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        289 

heart  from  hurtin'  so  bad,  if  she's  only  half  the 
woman  I  take  her  for." 

David  stretched  out  his  hand  and  grasped  that  of 
the  sheriff  firmly. 

"God  bless  you,  John!"       . 

"That's  right,  man!  Pull  yourself  together!" 
was  the  hearty  retort.  "  Now,  I'm  off.  So-long ! " 

David  pulled  himself  together,  but  not  at  once; 
some  mental  attitudes  need  a  little  time  for  adjust 
ment.  Dick  came  down  and  stayed  by  him  for  a 
day  or  two,  warding  off  any  possible  wifely  attentions 
by  hints  of  smallpox  among  the  Mexicans,  into  whose 
midst  Kingdon's  duties  as  deputy  had  recently  led 
him. 

The  unforeseen  contingency  of  her  husband's 
possible  illness  affected  the  lady  of  the  house  unpleas 
antly.  Strange  to  say,  Clairette  did  not  believe  in 
the  smallpox  scare.  She  looked  on  it  as  merely  a 
clumsy  masculine  device,  accepted  it,  nevertheless, 
without  demur;  for,  as  has  been  said,  Clairette  was 
not  fond  of  sick  people  or  sick-rooms,  and  besides  was 
still  firmly  abiding  by  her  physician's  advice  as  to 
fresh  air.  Fresh  air,  therefore,  she  must  have,  if 
to  obtain  it  she  must  walk  over  the  dead  body  of  her 
husband  and  those  of  her  friends.  She  kept  out  of 
David's  room,  contenting  herself — and  quite  inci- 


290        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

dentally  him  also — with  sending  kind  messages  of 
inquiry. 

Yet  she  was  more  than  troubled ;  she  was  outraged 
both  in  person  and  sensibilities  by  this  unfeeling 
emancipation  on  her  husband's  part  from  accepted 
traditions.  A  man  who  has  a  sick  wife  to  take  care 
of  has  no  business  to  get  sick  himself;  and  if  it  had 
not  been  for  that  ridiculous  nonsense  about  getting 
made  deputy  sheriff,  just  for  the  sake  of  hunting  up 
a  few  stolen  cows,  he  would  not  have  worn  himself  out, 
riding  all  over  the  country  like  a  lunatic !  What  did 
some  old  cows  matter,  either,  in  comparison  with  his 
wife's  comfort?  Now  she  would  be  sure  to  have  a 
set-back — just  as  she  was  gaining  so  nicely,  too! — 
three  whole  pounds  in  one  week!  Not  even  the  near 
neighbourhood  of  her  Jonesville  friends  would  prevent 
her  from  losing  again,  she  felt  sure.  Her  usually 
excellent,  not  to  say  large,  appetitie  was  already  fall 
ing  off,  after  only  two  days  of  this  worry.  Anxiously 
she  tested  her  temperature.  This  would  never  do! 
It  was  half  a  degree  above  normal!  And  this  morn 
ing  she  had  not  been  able  to  eat  her  regulation  number 
of  wheat-biscuits  at  breakfast,  and 

Her  lip  was  trembling  and  the  tears  were  ready  to 
fall  when  her  ear  caught  the  sound  of  a  key  turning 
in  a  lock.  She  sprang  up,  and  actually  hurried 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        '291 

across  the  room — to  meet  her  husband.  His  face  was 
drawn  and  haggard,  as  she  had  never  seen  it,  but 
he  was  smiling  faintly;  Clairette's  physician  had 
prescribed  a  smiling  environment. 

"  Oh,  David !  How  thankful  I  am  that  you're  not 
going  to  have  an  illness !  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
have  done  if  you  had!  But  mercy  sakes,  how  pale 
you  are!" 

Cristol  took  the  train  to  Mendoza  City.  He  was 
in  the  still-hunt  business  himself  this  trip,  as  he 
expressed  it.  But  further  interviews  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hendrick  produced  nothing  new  or  pertinent. 
The  letter  purporting  to  come  from  Kingdon,  and 
which  had  been  the  cause  of  the  tragedy,  was  of 
course  a  forgery;  but,  even  as  the  minister  had  to 
acknowledge,  a  very  good  one.  It  was  barely  pos 
sible  that  had  he  himself  been  at  home  to  receive  it 
he  might  have  been  deceived;  one  does  not  pore  over 
notes  in  these  days  of  high  pressure,  neither  are  dep 
uty  sheriffs  masters  of  their  own  time.  David  had 
intended  to  come  to  the  city  on  horseback  as  before; 
and  this  in  fact  was  what  he  did,  arriving,  how 
ever,  too  late  at  night  to  go  at  once  to  the  Rectory. 
Early  in  the  morning  Cristol,  who  had  already  picked 
up  suspicious  items,  came  to  his  hotel,  and  with  char- 


292        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

acteristic  impetuosity  David  had  flung  out  of  the 
city,  dragging  his  chief  with  him.  Cristol's  uneasi 
ness  had  been  aroused  by  a  meeting  with  Dick,  whom 
he  had  run  across  by  chance  after  he,  Cristol,  had 
heard  at  the  Rectory  of  the  new  plan  for  the  baby 
and  nurse.  Dick,  on  being  questioned,  had  shaken 
his  head  vaguely,  but  there  was  nothing  vague  about 
his  ensuing  actions.  He  left  the  city  immediately, 
and  although  in  such  a  case  as  the  present  the  wires 
had  to  be  used  with  great  caution,  Dick  contrived 
by  means  of  them  to  inform  Cristol,  ere  he  left  the 
city,  that  a  coloured  woman  and  a  white  child  had 
been  observed  to  leave  the  small  station  mentioned  in 
the  forged  letter.  Two  Mexicans  in  a  wagon  had 
escorted  them,  and  it  was  also  observed  that  the  old 
woman  had  at  first  strenuously  objected  to  this  escort, 
but  had  finally  yielded.  The  party,  however,  had 
not  take  the  trail  leading  to  San  Juan  Pass. 

In  the  night  a  wind  had  arisen,  blowing  the  sand 
over  the  wagon  tracks ;  therefore  even  Cristol's  saga 
city  had  for  a  while  been  at  fault.  When  at  length 
he  had  got  upon  the  scent,  and  with  Kingdon  had 
hastened  to  the  Pass,  it  was  as  the  two  men  rode  down 
the  mountain  side  that  David  had  recognised  Sylvia 
far  away  beneath  the  foothills,  on  the  Rosalia  trail. 
During  his  absence  Cristol's  instinct  led  him  to  the 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        293 

deserted  hut — to  find  it  no  longer  deserted.  The 
kidnappers  had  already  fled,  and  with  such  a  long 
start  were  of  course  well  across  the  border  into  Mexico. 
Dick  had  been  instructed  to  remain  in  the  canon  with 
the  spring  wagon  hired  at  the  station.  The  rest  we 
know. 

It  was  in  a  thoughtful  mood  that  Cristol  rode  with 
the  mail-carrier  the  mile  and  a  half  to  Sylvia's  house. 
Poor  Aunt  Julie  met  him  at  the  door,  her  face  worn 
and  aged.  In  answer  to  the  sheriff's  inquiries,  Aunt 
Julie  replied  volubly: 

"  Now,  Mister  Cristol,  sah,  I  dunno.  I  can't 
'xactly  say,  Marse.  But  Mis'  Johnson,  she  say  Mis' 
ain't  never  done  tell  her  folks  of  the  blessed  lamb. 
She  say  they  don't  care  nothin'  'bout  dat  chile. 
But  a  gemmun  hyar  with  we-all  las'  fall — he  mighty 
nice  gemmun — I  done  plead  with  Mis'  to  write  him, 
an'  she  jes  shake  her  head  mighty  sad  an'  mournful 
an'  'low  *  No.'  Now,  sah,  de  blessed  lamb  done  dead 
— no  use  fur  Mis'  to  fret  no  mo' — an',  Mister  Cristol, 
she  done  try,  sah — she  done  try  to  hold  up  her  head, 
all  dis  long  time!  But  it  wuz  mighty  hard  on  her, 
an'  now  she  mos'  same  as  a  dead  woman!  My  heart 
jes'  turn  in  my  breas'  when  I  look  at  her!  Oh,  sah, 
but  it's  pitiful!  I  done  ca'ied  de  chile's  clo's  an' 
truck  an'  locked  dem  in  de  big  trunk ;  she  never  see 


294        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

dem  mo'.  But  still  she  don't  say  nuffin.  Ef  some 
o'  her  folks  don't  come  an'  take  her  away  from  hyar, 
she  gwine  die — she  gwine  die,  sah!  De  ole  Mammy 
know.  Name  er  goodness,  sah,  get  her  so  she  talk 
wiv  you ! " 

The  sheriff  comforted  the  faithful  creature  to  the 
best  of  his  ability,  and  followed  her  to  the  sitting- 
room,  the  door  of  which  Aunt  Julie  closed  softly 
behind  him. 

John  Cristol  was  not  a  family  man,  but  a  long 
training  in  the  ways  of  men  and  women  perhaps 
served  him  as  well,  or  better.  He  walked  straight  up 
to  the  rigid  figure  sitting  in  the  chair  by  the  window, 
and  extended  his  hand  as  if  the  meeting  were  an 
everyday  affair.  It  had  the  desired  effect,  in  so  far 
as  it  extracted  from  her  an  everyday  greeting. 

There  was  nothing  far-away  now  in  the  gray  eyes 
that  rested  on  the  wan,  changed  face  with  a  tender 
ness  well-nigh  paternal.  But  John  Cristol  had  not 
come  to  pity.  As  he  would  have  expressed  it,  there 
was  nothing  in  it,  in  this  case. 

"  Mrs.  Kingdon,"  he  began,  at  once,  "  I  have  work 
for  you.  Are  you  able  to  do  it?" 

"  Work  ?  "  she  echoed,  vaguely. 

"Yes.     Work  for  him." 

"For  him?     He  is  dead." 


THE    HUMAN   TOUCH         295 

"I'm  not  alluding  to  the  little  chap.  He's  all 
right;  he  don't  need  you  any  more.  It's  his  father 
as  needs  you;  he's  all  broke  up,  same  as  you  are. 
But  you  could  help  him.  Can't  you  work  for 
him?" 

Then,  seeing  that  he  had  won  her  attention,  he 
proceeded,  slowly  and  emphatically.  "  I  call  you 
Mrs.  Kingdon,  and  I  expect  to  call  you  so  all  the 
time,  so  long  as  there  ain't  no  one  else  save  me  an' 
you  around.  You  were  a  wife,  and  an  Al  wife  to 
him ;  more  than  me  knows  that.  He  sent  me  to  you. 
He  didn't  write;  we  both  judged  best  not.  We've 
got  to  keep  your  name  out  o'  this  business,  if  so  be 
as  it  can  be  done,  an'  you  an'  him  don't  look  to 
meet;  but  you  can  help  him  all  the  same.  Are  you 
willing?" 

She  had  clasped  her  delicate  fingers  together,  and 
was  leaning  toward  him  now,  a  faint  colour  dyeing 
her  pale  face.  The  sheriff's  kind  heart  hurt  him  as 
he  watched  her.  This  was  heroic  treatment  indeed! 
Supposing  it  killed  her!  Not  likely;  but  even  if 
it  did,  she  would  die  happier,  helping  the  man  she 
loved,  than  she  was  living  now.  Some  women — not 
many,  but  some — love  that  way,  reasoned  the  sheriff, 
and  he  had  an  idea  she  was  one  of  that  kind.  Another 
man,  far  away  in  New  York,  had  also  divined  that 


296        THE  HUMAN   TOUCH 

here  was  one  of  those  rare  beings  capable  of  a  grand 
passion. 

"You  don't  appear  any  too  rugged,"  he  added, 
presently. 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing.  I  am  well.  I  never  had  much 
colour,  and " 

She  broke  off,  and  Cristol  hoped  the  tears  were 
coming.  Of  course  he  hated  a  watery  scene,  but  in 
this  case  he  was  prepared  to  endure  such  valiantly. 
He  was  disappointed,  however.  The  eyes  lifted  to 
his  own  were  dry  and  bright. 

"  You'll  need  all  your  grit,"  he  said,  smiling  down 
upon  her.  "Are  you  brave,  Mrs.  Kingdon?" 

"  I  used  to  be  a  coward.     I  do  not  think  I  am  now." 

The  smile  that  reflected  his  own  was  faint;  still, 
there  it  was. 

"  Well,  round  up  all  the  courage  you  have,  then. 
And  now,  can  you  give  me  your  whole  attention? — 
because  it  won't  do  for  us  to  slip  up  in  this  business." 

He  drew  his  chair  close  to  hers,  and  proceeded  to 
explain  himself. 

He  dared  not  be  entirely  explicit.  He  had  been 
so  once  in  the  past,  in  a  case  not  dissimilar,  and  the 
mother  bereft  of  her  young,  a  timid  little  woman,  con 
fronted  him  in  the  prisoner's  dock  a  few  weeks  later, 
a  murderess.  His  cue  here  was  to  shift  the  intensity 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        297 

4 

of  feeling  from  child  to  father.  He  did  not  think 
this  would  be  difficult  to  do,  believing  that  in  losing 
the  child  the  loss  was  intensified  by  the  knowledge 
that  with  it  went  all  that  was  left  to  her  of  that 
father. 

"  I  guess  you  know  who's  at  the  back  o'  them 
greasers,  Mrs.  Kingdon  ?  "  A  steely  light  flashed 
into  her  eyes.  It  was  gone  on  the  instant ;  but  Cris- 
tol  was  answered. 

"  Well,  then,  we  understand  one  another.  But  the 
greasers  has  got  to  be  caught — on  the  quiet,  mind 
you !  It's  the  very  devil — excuse  my  language  before 
a  lady — that  we  can't  act  open  an'  aboveboard,  but 
you  know  as  we  can't." 

She  nodded  quickly. 

"I've  kind  o'  suspicioned  one  o'  the  fellers,  and 
am  layin'  for  him,  all  right.  He's  over  to  Mexico 
now,  but  that  don't  make  no  difference.  The  gang 
I'm  thinkin'  of,  and  as  is  back  o'  the  Mexicans,  comes 
together  at  one  o'  Berry's  cow-ranches,  a  small  one, 
not  three  miles  from  Bubbling  Spring.  Now  the 
feller  as  has  run  over  to  Old  Mexico  will  come  to  that 
ranch  to  report — you  can  bet  on  that !  I've  kept  my 
eye  on  the  Berry  gang  this  ever  so  long,  and  am 
pretty  well  acquainted  with  their  ways.  Don't  you 
worry,  Mrs.  Kingdon.  It  won't  be  so  long  now 


298         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

before  the  last  man  o'  them  will  be  dead,  or  serving 
his  time  in  the  Pen!  There's  other  things  against 
them  Berry  s  besides  your  account.  I  may  be  lay  in' 
low,  but  I'm  layin'  all  the  same ! " 

Sylvia  was  at  last  aroused,  and  was  gazing  intently 
at  the  sheriff.  It  was  for  the  moment  easy  to  under 
stand  why  John  Cristol  was  such  a  terror  to  evildoers ; 
why  in  the  quest  for  them  he  was  rarely  known  to 
fail. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Kingdon," — resuming  his  customary 
mild  tones — "now  we're  gettin'  down  to  business. 
Some  one  has  to  watch  for  them  fellers — the  greasers, 
I  mean.  Do  you  catch  on?  Well,  all  right  then! 
Kingdon's  my  deputy,  an'  the  watchin'  should  by 
rights  fall  to  him.  But  you  know  how  he's  placed, 
an'  as  this  is  just  the  one  case  he  can't  meddle  openly 
in — see?  Now  I'm  comin'  to  it:  will  you  act  as  my 
deputy  for  a  while,  an'  help  me  catch  the  rascals,  an' 
bring  to  justice  them  as  has  'most  broke  the  hearts 
of  him  an'  you  ?  " 

He  came  to  a  dead  stop,  his  eyes,  keen  enough 
surely  at  this  moment,  meeting  her  own. 

If  he  had  waited  long  for  the  transformation,  it 
came  at  last.  Those  well  acquainted  with  this  woman 
were  accustomed  to  her  sudden  variations,  but  John 
Cristol  knew  her  not.  There  was  an  instant  in  which 


THE    HUMAN    TOUCH         299 

he  feared  he  had  gone  too  far,  and  remembered  the 
little  woman  in  the  prisoner's  dock. 

She  rose  to  her  feet,  and  into  the  dull  calm  of  her 
face  and  of  her  heavy  eyes  flamed  a  light  that  was 
almost  unearthly,  so  unexpected  and  so  intense  it 
was. 

Her  lips  opened  as  though  for  speech,  but  no  sound 
came  from  them.  Her  sudden  and  singular  beauty 
awed  John  Cristol  into  a  silence  that  nothing  but 
necessity  nerved  him  to  break. 

"  Well,  you're  game,  then.  That's  all  right.  Sit 
down" — pulling  forward  her  chair  and  speaking  in 
soothing  tones — "  and  let's  you  an'  me  talk  this  thing 
out." 

She  hesitated  momentarily ;  then  obeyed. 

"  You'll  be  safe  at  Bubbling  Spring.  The  man 
who  runs  that  shebang's  a  good  friend  of  mine,  an' 
ain't  mixed  up  in  any  o'  this  business  neither;  pretty 
independent  sort  of  a  chap,  anyway.  But  somehow 
or  another  the  whole  Berry  gang's  scared  of  him ; 
'  bad  men  '  every  place  thinks  him  a  kind  o'  holy  ter 
ror.  Yet  he  don't  get  into  no  rows — t'ain't  that. 
Well,  however  it  is,  you're  safe  with  Mat  Douglas. 
Moreover,  no  one  ain't  goin'  to  bother  you ;  that's  a 
game  as  would  be  altogether  too  risky.  I  told  Matt 
something  about  you  at  Mendoza  yesterday,  jes  so  as 


300        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

to  see  if  he'd  treat  you  right  if  so  be  as  you  put  up  at 
his  place.  Says  he :  *  That's  the  woman  as  married 
Kingdon,  an'  acted  right  on  the  square  by  the  other 
woman?  All  right!  That's  a  lady,  John,  if  ever 
there  wuz  one,  an'  she  shall  be  treated  all  right,  you 
bet!'  He's  jes'  a  rough  old  mining  man,  but  he's 
straight,  all  through,  an'  knows  what  a  lady  is. 
Treats  his  guests  all  on  the  square,  too.  You  know 
as  he  takes  lungers  through  the  summer  months,  but 
they'll  be  apt  not  to  be  there  yet  awhile." 

"  If  I  could  be  alone !  "  murmured  Sylvia. 

The  big  man  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  said,  with  gentle  insistence,  "  best  not, 
Mrs.  Kingdon.  If  one  or  two  goes  up  there,  they'll 
be  sick  folks,  an'  you'll  want  to  help  them,  an'  that'll 
help  you.  An'  you'll  have  time  to  look  around  and 
settle  yourself  before  they  come  along." 

It  was  possible  now  to  go  into  details  with  her,  and 
Cristol  did  so;  and  before  this  "heathen"  (or  Good 
Samaritan)  departed,  their  plans  were  perfected.  As 
he  went  out  of  the  door  he  grasped  the  old  coloured 
woman's  hand,  saying  heartily : 

"  Cheer  up,  auntie !     She'll  do  now." 

Aunt  Julie's  face  brightened,  but  instead  of  an 
swering  she  moved  so  as  to  reveal  the  figure  of  Mr. 
Atherton  in  the  porch. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        301 

"  Mister  Cristol,"  she  said,  anxiously,  "  please, 
sah,  say  a  word  to  the  preacher.  He  sot  on  seein' 
my  Mis',  an'  she  don't  want  to  see  no  one,  she 
say." 

"  If  she  has  seen  you,"  put  in  the  Christian  Worker, 
stiffly,  "  she  can  certainly  see  me.  When  I  heard 
that  her  child  had  got  lost  in  the  mountains  with  his 
nurse  on  his  way  home  by  wagon  " — this  was  the  ver 
sion  of  the  story  presented  to  an  inquiring  public — 
"  I  hastened  to  bring  to  her  the  consolations  of  Chris 
tianity,  but  it  appears  that  she  has  found  another 
form  of  consolation." 

Now  although  Cristol  had  long  been  aware  that 
this  well-meaning  person  could  be  on  occasion  vicious, 
in  no  case  had  he  any  idea  of  treating  his  avowed 
enemy  otherwise  than  courteously;  for  the  sheriff, 
despite  his  careless  Western  speech,  was  a  gentleman. 
But  Mr.  Atherton  had  this  time  overstepped  the 
bounds  of  even  Cristol's  easy  good-nature.  He  looked 
down  upon  the  man  from  his  superior  height,  his 
far-away  eyes  cold  and  repellent. 

"Mr.  Atherton,"  he  said,  in  his  most  deliberate 
tones,  "if  you  was  a  man  same  as  me,  and  not  pro 
tected  same  as  women  are,  I'd  have  you  to  explain 
them  words  o'  yours ;  but  bein'  as  you  is,  I'll  just  say 
as  I  take  it  you  don't  understand  that  they  insult  a 


302         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

sufferin'  and  helpless  lady,  and  maybe  you  don't  know 
a  lady  when  you  lays  eyes  on  her.  And  I'd  also  have 
you  to  understand  that  though  I  ain't  a  professin' 
Christian  same  as  you — and  Berry" — here  a  deadly 
pause — "  I'd  think  hangin'  too  good  for  such  as  me 
if  I  was  to  insult  such  as  her" — another  pause — 
"  same  as  you  and  Berry  done." 

The  unhappy  minister  flushed  darkly  all  over  his 
muddled,  dyspeptic-looking  skin;  it  is  scarcely  to  be 
supposed  that  he  had  intended  to  be  as  venomous  as 
his  words  made  him  out  to  be.  Cristol  continued  to 
regard  him,  thereby  increasing  his  discomfiture. 

"You  misunderstand  me,"  he  said  at  last,  with  a 
miserable  attempt  at  loftiness ;  "  and  I  certainly  did 
not  come  on  an  errand  of  mercy  in  order  to  listen  to 
foul  abuse  of  a  faithful  elder  of  the  church.  I  will 
call  another  day,"  he  added,  confusedly,  and  turning 
to  the  coloured  woman  that  he  might  escape  from 
under  those  terrible  gray  eyes. 

"  Mis'  Sylvie,  she  done  see  de  minister  ob  her  own 
church,"  retorted  Aunt  Julie,  politely,  but  with  firm 
ness.  "  I  done  tole  you,  sah,  bef  o'  dat  he  been  stayin' 
wiv  we-all  in  his  house.  What  fo'  she  need  another 
minister,  sah?  She  much  obleeged  all  same,  sah,  but 
Mis'  Sylvie  always  wuz  one  to  hold  to  the  white  folks 
as  has  been  good  to  her,  sah." 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         303 

With  this  parting  shot,  the  old  woman  folded  her 
hands  upon  her  portly  front.  But  poor  Mr.  Ather- 
ton  was  already  retreating  in  bad  order,  and  perhaps 
did  not  hear  the  irrepressible  chuckle  that  the  sheriff 
failed  to  suppress. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

EARLY  in  the  month  of  May    a  wagon  con 
taining  two  women,  a  Mexican  teamster,  and 
a  couple  of  trunks,  a  led  horse  attached  to 
the  whole  outfit,  might  have  been  seen  ascending  the 
sandy  mesa  and  later  struggling  up  the  rocky  trail 
of  the  canon  leading  to  Bubbling  Spring.     But  there 
was  none  to  see ;  the  scene  was  one  of  solitude  of  the 
most  complete. 

In  the  light  of  the  newborn  day  the  gray-helmeted 
heads  of  Motes  marked  the  receding  track,  like  tomb 
stones  in  some  forgotten  burying-ground,  prone,  or 
tottering  to  their  fall.  Here,  in  this  rock-walled 
pocket  of  the  mountains,  the  ghost  of  the  dead  night 
found  shelter  yet.  Afar,  upon  the  mountain-tops 
across  the  valley,  the  radiant  morn  stepped  lightly. 
Moment  by  moment  she  drew  nearer,  scattering  jewels 
as  she  passed,  until  every  distant  peak  gleamed  in 
delicate  array  of  sapphire  and  amber,  coral,  diamond 
and  pearl ;  and  the  broad  vale  lay  spread,  a  shadowed 
sea  of  blue,  flecked  with  the  white  wings  of  passing 
ships,  bound  as  in  a  dream  for  the  "  perilous  seas " 

304 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         805 

of  some  "faeryland  forlorn."  High  overhead  the 
towering  rocks  crowned  themselves  in  solemn  silence. 
Not  a  bird  lifted  its  voice,  not  a  butterfly  flaunted  a 
gay  wing.  And  as  the  small  and  solitary  party 
pressed  on  into  the  still  heart  of  the  mountains,  those 
rocks  closed  in  nearer  and  nearer,  making  a  rugged 
and  forbidding  frame  for  the  tender  beauty  of  the 
valley  and  the  glory  of  the  morning  sky. 

For  morning  in  the  Arid  Belt  is  indeed  as  the  very 
day-spring  from  on  high;  hope  unbidden  springs 
with  it. 

And  for  Sylvia  this  immense  solitude  held  no  dreari 
ness.  Strong  and  self-sufficing,  it  upbore  her  fainting 
spirit.  Almost  unconsciously,  yet  with  vague  glad 
ness,  her  tired  eyes  noted  the  tall  spires  of  living 
chlotes  hung  with  silver  bells;  the  cacti's  scarlet  and 
golden  fingers  pointing  heavenward,  giving  here, 
where  no  grass  grew,  no  evidence  of  earthly  sus 
tenance;  bright  flowers  staining  the  face  of  the 
tremendous  precipice  with  joyous  bursts  of  colour. 

"  You  like  it  hyar,  Mis'  ?  "  put  in  the  old  woman, 
softly.  "Marse,  he  done  like  it,  too,  mighty  well! 
We  done  camped  hyar  oncet  huntin'  stray  steers,  an* 
he  'low  he  like  to  live  in  dis  canon  all  de  days  of  his 
life." 

Narrower  and  narrower  grew  the  canon,  until  it 


306        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

ended  in  a  scattering  grove  of  junipers  and  a  low, 
lone  stone  house  pressed  against  the  perpendicular 
face  of  the  soaring  rocks  which  barred  all  further 
progress. 

Mindful  of  her  task,  Sylvia  had  inquired  of  the 
driver  the  whereabouts  of  the  little  ranch  owned  by 
Berry,  and  before  entering  the  canon  the  Mexican 
had  pointed  to  a  well-defined  trail  leading  up  the 
mountain  side  and  disappearing  around  its  shoulder. 
But  he  had  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  calling  so  small  a 
place  a  rancho  por  las  vacas.  He  acknowledged  that 
there  was  quite  a  large  house  upon  the  ranch,  but 
either  did  not  or  would  not  know  for  what  purpose 
it  was  intended. 

Mat  Douglas  proved  to  be  that  rare  production 
amongst  the  mountain  men,  a  fat  man;  but  this, 
perhaps,  was  because  he  was  not  a  mountain  man ; 
that  is  to  say,  he  had  been  born  and  bred  in  the 
mountains,  but  had  early  sought  the  valleys,  and  had 
there  gone  in  for  hotel-keeping.  Growing  older,  and 
also  probably  attracted  by  the  gathering  excitement 
in  mountain  circles,  he  had  opened  a  hostelry  at  the 
Spring  favoured  of  tourists  and  health-seekers.  How 
in  the  world  this  rotund  and  exceedingly  silent  man 
had  won  a  reputation  for  being  "  awful  sudden  with  a 
gun,"  few  could  say.  That  it  had,  however,  been 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        307 

won  fairly  was  evidenced  by  the  wide  berth  accorded 
its  amiable  bearer  by  "  bad  men  "  generally. 

The  uneffusive  yet  encouraging  reception  offered 
by  him  to  his  guest  was  entirely  acceptable.  Having 
said  his  say,  he,  to  use  his  own  expression,  turned  the 
party  loose  to  do  the  best  they  could  for  themselves 
in  two  or  three  small,  plainly  furnished,  but  spotlessly 
clean  rooms.  Aunt  Julie  was  soon  in  her  element. 
As  a  special  favour  to  a  lady-acquaintance  of  the 
sheriff,  one  of  the  rooms  had  been  fitted  up  as  a 
kitchen,  and  the  clatter  of  pots  and  pans,  and  the 
aroma  of  coffee  were  soon  alike  assailing  ears  and 
nostrils. 

A  few  hours  later  Douglas,  standing  amongst  the 
junipers  below  the  porch,  turned  from  watching  the 
wagon  that  had  conveyed  his  guests,  disappearing 
down  the  narrow  trail,  to  find  himself  confronted  by 
a  pair  of  dark  eyes  which,  at  this  period  of  their 
owner's  history,  seemed  altogether  too  large  for  the 
face  in  which  they  were  set. 

Sylvia,  leaning  upon  the  hand-rail  of  the  porch, 
had  been  contemplating  the  wide  acreage  of  her  host's 
back,  and  wondering  how  much  he  knew.  Her  soul 
revolted  from  the  idea  that  even  a  Mat  Douglas 
should  suspect  her  of  coming  up  here  on  an  errand  of 
vengeance.  Yet  how  could  it  be  otherwise?  Far 


808         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

from  criticising  his  guest's  action,  he  would  probably 
admire  her  for  her  "  grit "  and  "  sand."  Sylvia 
shrank  from  being  admired  on  these  lines ;  yet  shrink 
ing  availeth  nothing  the  woman  who  is  out  of  her 
element. 

Vengeance!  As,  in  the  long  night  watches,  the 
mother's  arms  sought  the  child  and  found  him  not,  or, 
waking  from  some  happy  dream,  listened  for  the 
soft  breathing  and  heard  it  not,  what  place  was  there 
in  that  tender  anguish  for  thoughts  of  vengeance? 

"  It  is  to  help  him — him!  "  she  whispered,  as  think 
ing  of  these  things,  her  yearning  gaze  searching  the 
blue  and  smiling  distance,  the  old  cry  found  words 
once  more. 

Then  it  was  that,  withdrawing  her  gaze,  it  had 
lighted  upon  her  host,  peacefully  engaged  in  smoking 
a  remarkably  bad  cigar. 

"Don't  you  want  to  come  down  and  see  how  I've 
fixed  up  that  fine  horse  o'  yours?"  inquired  Douglas. 

Sylvia  descended  the  steps  of  the  porch,  and 
together  they  walked  through  the  junipers  toward  the 
spring,  a  few  yards  from  which  the  Boy  was  tied  in 
the  shade  of  a  spreading  cedar.  He  nickered  on 
perceiving  his  mistress,  come  to  relieve  his  uneasiness 
at  being  abandoned  by  his  fellows  in  this  queer  and 
lonesome  spot;  and  it  was  in  discussing  the  horse's 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        309 

points  that  Douglas  found  an  opportunity  to  say 
what  he  wished  to  say.  Being,  as  has  been  observed, 
a  silent  man,  opportunities  did  not  always  lie  ready 
to  his  hand. 

"  It  may  be  so  as  you'll  need  a  fine  animal,"  he 
remarked,  "  and  this  one's  all  right.  There's  one 
thing  as  I  has  to  say  to  you,  Mrs.  Archibald:  don't 
hesitate  to  call  on  me  at  any  time.  I'm  your  friend, 
as  it's  so  as  you're  Cristol's.  Th'  ain't  no  one  a-goin' 
to  tech  you  so  long  as  I'm  around,  and  don't  you 
f  orgit  it !  " 

Sylvia  listened  to  this  somewhat  ambiguous  address 
uncertain  how  to  reply.  Feeling  the  hopelessness  of 
any  attempt  to  explain  her  real  attitude,  she  contented 
herself  with  thanking  her  new  adherent,  and  thus 
the  two  separated.  She  wished  she  could  have  asked 
Douglas  some  questions  concerning  the  topography 
of  the  country,  but  was  deterred  by  the  reasons 
aforesaid. 

Left  thus  to  herself,  she  began  by  exploring  the 
mountain  trails;  and,  field-glasses  slung  over  her 
shoulder,  scaled  every  accessible  peak,  until  in  less 
than  a  month  Douglas  pronounced  her  to  be  better 
acquainted  with  the  locality  than  he  was  himself. 
Needless  to  say  that  the  Berry  ranch  was  visited, 
cautiously  at  first,  but  on  finding  the  lonely  rock- 


310        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

house  to  be  entirely  deserted,  she  rode  within  sight 
of  it  daily,  for  the  purpose  of  observing  whether  any 
one  came  or  went. 

One  evening  her  vigilance  was  rewarded.  From 
the  upper  trail  she  saw  two  men  riding  toward  the 
house.  A  couple  of  bounds  on  the  part  of  her  horse 
carried  her  to  the  shelter  of  an  overhanging  rock, 
and,  as  the  wind  was  blowing,  she  felt  assured  that 
any  sound  made  by  the  Boy  would  be  unnoticed  by 
the  passers-by.  For  they  passed  by — the  Berrys, 
father  and  son. 

As  Sylvia  had  herself  remarked,  she  was  no  longer 
a  coward.  What  have  those  to  fear  who  have  lost 
everything?  Yet  when,  just  as  she  was  preparing 
to  leave  her  hiding-place,  Long  Tom  loped  into  view, 
her  heart  stood  still.  She  had  not  seen  him  on  the 
lower  trail.  After  this  adventure,  her  expeditions 
became  more  restricted;  and  this  partly  because  she 
was  now  beginning  to  look  for  instructions  and  advice. 

Both  came ;  but  not  immediately. 

There  have  been  others  in  worse  case  than  Sylvia  at 
this  period.  Hers  at  least  was  that  draught  of  simple 
human  pity,  more  helpful  than  all  wisdom,  that  does 
not  forsake  us. 

Yet  what  Cristol  had  dreaded  for  her  had  occurred, 
and  innocuously.  Tears  had  been  mingled — feminine 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         311 

tears.  But  the  helping  hand  of  the  sturdy,  simple- 
minded  man,  extended  in  time,  had  had  power  to  save. 

For  Johnny,  on  her  way  from  St.  Louis  some  weeks 
previously,  had  resolved  on  giving  her  a  surprise. 
Sending  Ted  home,  she,  unannounced,  stopped  off  at 
Rosalia.  No  news  of  the  tragedy  had  reached  her 
during  her  absence,  and  the  mail-carrier  who  drove 
her  from  the  depot  knew  not  Johnny,  and  was  there 
fore  unknown  himself — a  new  man,  in  short.  The 
drive  was  a  silent  one,  and  Johnny,  arrived  at  her 
destination,  lumbered  softly  up  the  steps  and  passed 
in  at  the  open  door.  Once  in  the  hall,  she  uplifted  her 
voice : 

"  Little  Davie !  Little  Davie !  Come  to  your 
old  Johnny!" 

But  the  opening  of  doors,  the  hurrying  of  feet, 
and  the  baby  sounds  she  had  expected,  all  failed  her. 
No,  not  all;  for  a  door  slowly  opened,  and  a  figure, 
wan  of  face,  large-eyed  and  haggard,  paused  upon 
the  threshold.  Was  this  Sylvia? 

For  the  flash  of  a  second  the  two  women  confronted 
one  another  in  silence.  Then  the  bent  bow  snapped, 
and  with  an  exceedingly  bitter  cry  the  childless 
woman  fell  upon  the  neck  of  her  friend. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  even  the  strong-willed 
Johnny  could  have  controlled  her  grief  in  this  hour. 


312        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

But  she  did  not  try.  It  was  not  until  the  old  Mammy 
touched  her  gently,  telling  her  in  broken  accents  that 
these  were  the  first  tears  the  mother  had  shed  since  the 
pitiful  death  of  the  child,  that  Johnny  bethought  her, 
and,  checking  her  own  tears,  abandoned  herself  to  the 
care  of  Sylvia.  She  needed  that  care.  For  many 
days  and  weeks  it  seemed  as  though  the  long-enduring 
spirit  had  endured  for  the  last  time.  The  thought 
of  the  living  David  alone  brought  her  weary  feet  back 
from  the  grave's  edge. 

In  the  month  that  she  awaited  instructions  at  Bub 
bling  Spring  other  guests  came  thither,  health-seek 
ers,  as  Cristol  had  prognosticated.  At  first  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  as  much  as  from  a  sympathy  born  of 
her  own  loneliness  and  suffering,  she  strove  to  cheer 
these  lonely  travellers,  whilst  her  personal  appearance 
and  her  sojourn  at  this  isolated  spot  excited  their  in 
terest  in  return.  Fortunately  for  Sylvia,  the  self- 
absorption  which  is  a  rarely  failing  characteristic  of 
their  disease  served  to  distract  their  attention  from 
herself,  when  curiosity  threatened  to  become  awkward. 
From  the  host  or  the  coloured  woman  no  satisfaction 
was  to  be  obtained,  beyond  Aunt  Julie's  vague  in 
formation  that  "  Mis'  had  had  a  heap  o'  trouble." 
She  was  thin,  undoubtedly,  was  the  universal  com 
ment,  but  seemed  to  be  well  and  cheerful. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        313 

For  Sylvia  had  arrived  at  that  stage  of  suffering 
when  the  endeavour  after  concealment,  to  appear  even 
as  others,  absorbs  the  whole  being.  She  quickly  learned 
the  trick  of  laughing  with  a  heart  full  to  bursting, 
and  other  tricks  of  a  like  nature  known  to  those  who 
have  passed  their  novitiate.  Sounding  the  depths  of 
human  agony,  or  shivering  in  its  shallows,  may  pro 
duce  in  the  same  person  widely  differing  effects;  and 
there  are  few  individuals  of  strong  character  whom 
the  awful  experience  of  the  worst  that  life  can  offer 
does  not  nerve  to  a  display  of  courage  and  cheerful 
ness.  To  such  natures  necessity  knows  no  other  law. 

At  the  end  of  the  month  Cristol  was  found,  early 
one  morning,  watering  himself  and  his  horse  under  the 
rocks  near  the  big  cedar. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

NO  nor  the  savages  ain't  got  no  use  for  help 
less  dumb  things!     They  kicks  an'  abuses 
them  same's  you  does.     Folks  has   got  to 
be    sorter    civilised    afore    they    cares    for    them    as 
can't   help   theyselves.      An'   lemme   tell   you,   God's 
a-watchin'  to  see  who's  got  understandin'  sufficient 
to  treat  the  creatures  He  gives  us  right,  an'  sense 
enough  to  know  as  they  has  feelin's  an'  minds  same 
as  civilised  folks,  an'  a  heap  more'n  savages  has ! " 
The  above  fiery  speech  proceeded  from  the  lips  of 
Johnny.     Wrath  blazed  in  her  eyes,  and  her  hand 
some  countenance  flamed.     But  in  the  hollow  of  her 
left  arm  she  held  with  surpassing  tenderness  the  tiny 
Nino,  his  small  head  resting  confidingly  beneath  her 
ample  chin. 

Her  fury  had  been  evoked  by  the  abrupt  entrance 
of  Ted,  in  tears  and  unashamed,  because  Berry,  on  his 
way  to  the  house,  had  kicked  the  little  dog.  Johnny's 
wrath  was  due  not  only  to  the  treatment  of  her  son's 
pet,  but  to  Berry's  sneering  and  untruthful  comment 
on  the  mollycoddle  fashion  in  which  she  raised  her 
boys. 

314 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        315 

If  Berry  possessed  a  guardian  angel,  the  same  was 
oversleeping  himself  that  morning.  The  redoubtable 
Mrs.  Johnson  now  paused  in  order  to  hand  her  tiny 
burden  to  her  son,  and  then  whirled  on  her  exceedingly 
foolish  visitor. 

Berry  rarely  ventured  to  Antelope  Canon,  but  he 
felt  the  necessity  of  finding  out  what  Sylvia  was  doing 
at  Bubbling  Spring ;  for  he  had  by  this  time  seen  her 
on  the  mountain  trails,  and  did  not  want  her  in  his 
neighbourhood,  for  reasons  at  present  known  posi 
tively  only  to  himself  and  his  immediate  following. 
He  had  intended  to  begin  by  appearing  interested  in 
the  kidnapping  affair,  to  pretend  to  lament  it,  and  to 
express  the  hope  that  the  now  somewhat  frail-looking 
mother  of  the  baby  was  not  really  going  into  a  de 
cline,  as  he  had  heard.  He  had,  of  course,  heard 
nothing  of  the  sort,  and  began  to  wish  he  had  not 
come. 

"You're  gettin'  too  smart,  you  is,  Sam  Berry!" 
observed  his  hostess,  in  a  withering  voice.  "  An'  don't 
you  never  dare  again  to  take  the  names  of  that  blessed 
lamb  an'  his  lady-mother  upon  your  lips !  Lemme  tell 
you  somethin':  I  knows  your  ways  all  right;  she's 
my  friend,  an'  whoever  plagues  her  has  got  Polly 
Johnson  to  reckon  with — hear  me?" 

Indubitably  Mrs.  Johnson  was  one  of  those  rare 


316        THE  HUMAN  TOUCH 

women  capable  of  using  a  horsewhip  to  advantage  on 
the  right  kind  of  man. 

"  An'  don't  you  go  fur  to  play  none  o'  your  dirty 
Texas  tricks  on  him,  neither,"  she  proceeded,  drawing 
up  her  stalwart  figure,  and  eyeing  the  shambling, 
loose- jointed  man  before  her  with  a  gaze  of  immeasur 
able  scorn.  "I  ain't  forgot  your  low-down  ways  o' 
doin'  to  a  gentleman  whose  shoes  you  ain't  fitten  fur 
to  lick,  let  alone  tie!  An'  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  forget, 
neither." 

Thereupon  Mrs.  Johnson  slammed  the  door  of  her 
hospitable  home  in  his  face. 

"  D n  the  old  she-devil !  "  cursed  Berry,  impo- 

tently.  For  to  engage  Johnny  other  than  impotently 
called  for  more  nerve  and  brain  than  Berry  was  able 
to  produce.  At  the  same  time  it  might  be  mentioned 
in  passing  that  had  the  warlike  lady  found  her  enemy 
wounded  by  the  wayside,  it  is  quite  likely  that  she 
would  have  laid  him  upon  her  own  beast  and  carried 
him — -to  an  inn. 

Berry  had  no  sooner  departed  than  Johnny  sum 
moned  her  son  and  the  hired  man,  and,  telling  the  lat 
ter  to  saddle  her  horse,  and  the  former  not  to  look  for 
her  until  the  following  day,  withdrew  to  prepare  her 
self  for  her  thirty-mile  ride  to  Bubbling  Spring. 

When  she  arrived  at  her  destination  it  was  to  find 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        317 

Sylvia  off  on  horseback,  no  one  could  exactly  say 
where.  Douglas  was  always  willing  to  expend  his 
limited  powers  of  expression  on  Mrs.  Johnson ;  in  fact 
was  in  the  habit  of  inviting  that  capable  person,  with 
much  regularity  and  persistence,  to  take  possession  of 
himself  and  his  house  upon  that  day  and  forever 
more.  If  Johnny  had  not  received  the  unfailing  invi 
tation,  she  might  have  missed  it ;  as  it  was,  she  scouted 
it  with  rather  more  vim  than  usual. 

"Oh,  go-long,  Mr.  Douglas!  I've  got  more  impor 
tant  matters  to  think  of  than  courtin'." 

Having  thus  summarily  disposed  of  her  admirer's 
passion,  Johnny  proceeded  to  business.  She  was  still 
engaged  in  warily  sounding  that  silent  person,  when 
Sylvia  came  riding  up  the  canon,  and  in  less  than  five 
minutes  the  two  women  were  sitting  in  the  doorway  of 
the  corner  room  at  the  end  of  the  porch,  safe  from  lis 
tening  ears. 

It  was  warm  June  weather,  but  at  this  altitude  the 
heat  of  the  day  was  at  five  o'clock  already  spent,  and 
the  sweet  mountain  breeze  sighed  softly  through  the 
junipers  and  cedars,  and  trailed  the  shadows  of  imag 
inary  clouds  across  the  valley,  dreaming  miles  below. 

"  Johnny,"  began  Sylvia,  impressively,  "  I've  made 
a  discovery.  When  Mr.  Cristol  was  here  the  other 
day,  he  told  me  that  there  were  caves  somewhere  on 


318        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

this  mountain."  The  other  woman  nodded  her  head 
vigorously. 

"  Sure !  but  they  been  lost  for  years  and  years.  They 
do  say  as  the  old  cave  dwellers  were  mixed  up  some 
how  in  their  makin',  an'  Johnson  used  to  tell  how  a 
real  old  man  as  lived  on  our  ranch  before  Johnson 
bought  it  had  known  a  party  of  emigrants  to  take 
refuge  in  them  caverns  one  time  when  the  Injuns  was 
after  them ;  though  how  emigrants  ever  got  up  so  high 
beats  me  to  say." 

"Johnny,"  whispered  Sylvia,  with  shining  eyes, 
"  I've  found  those  caves !  " 

"You  have!    My  sakes!" 

"  Mr.  Cristol  asked  me  to  hunt  them  up,  if  I  could ; 
he  said  he  did  not  think  I  could,  because  they  had  been 
lost,  as  you  said,  for  years  and  years.  But,  Johnny, 
I've  found  them !  And  it  is  as  Mr.  Cristol  suspected. 
That's  the  way  all  the  stolen  cattle  have  gone.  Do 
you  see?" 

"Do  I  see?"  echoed  Johnny,  rising  majestically. 
"  My  dearie,  we're  gettin'  there  all  right !  We'll  have 
them  cattle-rustlers,  sure  pop!  and  with  them,  you 
mark  my  words  " — lowering  her  voice — "  we'll  get  the 
others,  too." 

Then  she  paused,  remembering  a  conversation  she 
had  held  recently  with  the  sheriff.  Sylvia  believed, 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        319 

and  with  some  show  of  justice,  that  by  assuming,  so 
far  as  she  was  able,  Kingdon's  duties,  she  was  saving 
him  from  dangers  which  in  her  case  would  amount  to 
possibilities  only.  Also  Cristol  realised  that  David's 
mood  was  not  such  as  to  render  him  an  efficient  pro 
tector  of  Sylvia's  name,  or  his  own  domestic  peace. 
His  customary  self-control  was  to  a  large  extent  in 
abeyance,  and,  in  thus  giving  the  rein  to  the  desperate 
side  of  his  nature,  he  was  also  incapable  for  the  time  of 
discharging  his  duties  in  the  manner  required  by  the 
law.  And  as  these  thoughts  passed  through  the  one 
woman's  mind,  the  other  took  them  and  put  them  into 
words. 

"  Johnny,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  it  isn't  only  because 
remark  might  be  caused  by  David's  taking  up  this  bus 
iness  that  I  want  to  try  and  do  it  for  him ;  it  is  because 
— well,  you  know  how  it  is  with  him ;  when  he  has  held 
himself  in  as  long  as  he  can,  then  he "  She  hesi 
tated,  as  if  unable  to  find  exactly  the  right  word. 

"Turns  hisself  loose!"  put  in  the  other  woman, 
promptly ;  "  I  know  all  about  it,  my  dear.  I've  seen 
Davie  real  mad,  and  this  time  if  ever  a  man  had 
cause " 

But  the  expression  of  Sylvia's  face  was  such  that 
Johnny  hurriedly  restored  the  subject  to  its  abandoned 
channel. 


320        THE  HUMAN  TOUCH 

"  Now  tell  me  about  those  caverns,  my  dearie,"  she 
continued;  "I'm  jes5  wild  to  have  you  tell  what  you 
seen."  Then,  as  an  idea  struck  her,  "  Did  John  let  on 
to  you  about  the  train-robbing?" 

"Yes,  but  he  says  he  has  absolutely  no  proof  at 
present  that  it's  the  same  gang." 

"  You  bet  it  is ! "  cried  Johnny,  slapping  her  knees ; 
"I've  been  suspicionin'  that  Vin  Berry  this  ever  so 
long,  and  though  Cristol's  been  awful  close  with  me, 
I've  got  even  with  him,  all  right ;  an'  so  I  told  him  last 
week."  Here  she  laughed,  enjoying  certain  reminis 
cences  ;  then  sobered  suddenly.  "  But  don't  you  know 
that  it's  as  much  as  our  lives  is  worth,  mine  an'  yours, 
for  any  one  to  suspicion  us?  There's  men  in  that 
gang  who'd  as  soon  do  up  a  woman  as  they  would  a 
man;  an*  don't  you  forget  it,  my  dear!" 

"  No,  I  won't  forget,  but  they  won't  touch  me. 
Well,  Johnny,  there's  no  going  up  about  it.  The  reg 
ular  wagon-trail  leads  right  past  the  mouth  of  the 
caves ;  yet  it  was  by  the  merest  chance  I  stumbled,  not 
only  upon  them,  but  into  them.  I'd  tied  the  horse  on 
the  trail  below  the  Berry  house  on  the  other  side  of  the 
mountain,  and  had  climbed  on  to  the  top  of  a  kind  of 
butte,  and  was  sitting  there,  thinking,  and  throwing 
little  bits  of  rock  at  nothing  at  all.  Suddenly  a  larger 
piece  than  usual  seemed  to  disappear ;  I  threw  another ; 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        821 

that  went  down,  too.  Then  I  got  interested,  and  went 
over  to  the  place.  There  I  found  a  queer  dent  in  the 
ground;  hardly  a  hole,  yet  when  I  poked  my  riding 
switch  into  it,  the  point  went  on  down.  I  cleared 
away  the  trash,  just  from  curiosity,  to  see  if  my  rocks 
were  there,  but  could  not  find  them.  I  took  a  sharp 
rock  and  enlarged  the  opening.  By  this  time  I  dis 
covered  that  the  ground  was  hollow  underneath.  Then 
I  thought  of  the  lost  caves.  I  went  down  to  the  trail, 
took  off  the  Boy's  rope,  and  hitched  him  to  a  bunch  of 
grass.  Tying  a  heavy  bit  of  rock  to  the  rope  with  my 
handkerchief,  I  forced  the  rock  through  the  hole.  It 
went  on  dropping  until  at  last  I  came  to  the  end  of 
the  rope,  and  had  to  stop.  That  was  only  this  after 
noon,  Johnny ! " 

Sylvia  came  to  an  impressive  pause. 

"  I  scarcely  like  to  tell  you  what  I  did  afterward," 
she  continued,  "because  you  always  says  'Go  slow!' 
I  didn't  go  slow.  I  noticed  that  the  rope  seemed  to 
hang  perfectly  straight  at  first,  and  then  slanted  to 
one  side,  toward  the  trail.  I  leaned  over  the  edge  of 
the  butte.  Nothing  was  to  be  seen  down  there  but  a 
sheer  face  of  limestone  rock;  at  least,  that's  how  it 
looked  at  first.  Then  it  looked  to  me  as  if  the  rock 
was  uneven  in  places.  I  went  down,  and  began  to  ex 
amine  the  face  of  the  cliff  as  high  as  I  could  reach. 


322         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Up  and  down  I  walked,  back  and  forth,  staring  until 
my  eyes  ached !  And  then  at  last — at  last,  Johnny ! — 
I  saw  that  one  huge  slab  was  detachable,  had  been  re 
cently  detached!  I  examined  the  ground  closely. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  about  it.  By  this  time  I  did 
not  care  what  I  did." 

"  Come ! "  remarked  Johnny  abruptly,  rising  from 
her  chair;  "let's  be  goin' !  " 

Sylvia  pulled  her  back  into  her  seat,  laughing. 

"Dear  Johnny,  it's  too  late!  And  you  couldn't 
possibly  get  into  the  cave !  It  was  as  much  as  I  could 
do  to  squeeze  in,  and ' 

"You  mean  to  tell  me  as  you  ventured  into  them 
caves  all  by  your  lonesome  ?  "  Johnny's  voice  was  stern. 

"  Johnny,  I  had  to !  I  know  I  promised  you  I  would 
do  nothing  rash,  but  sometimes  promises  have  to  be 
broken.  I  feared  I  might  lose  my  chance  if  I  went 
away  then,  perhaps  waste  valuable  time  looking  for 
that  slab  of  rock  again,  for  you'd  be  surprised  to  see 
how  natural  and  untouched  the  face  of  the  cliff  ap 
pears!  I  remembered  about  David — how  hard  it  al 
ways  is  for  him  to  wait,  to  be  kept  back,  and  that  no 
one  could  hold  him  much  longer  in  the  mood  he's  in 
now ;  and  I  said  to  myself  that  I'd  go  into  that  cave, 
mountain-lions  or  no!  So  I  squeezed  in,  but  I  had 
sense  enough  not  to  go  far " 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         323 

"And  God  forbid  you  ever  should!  Don't  you 
know  as  I  told  you  that  the  story  of  the  lost  caves 
is  as  they  has  no  end?  Or  leastways  no  man  has 
found  the  end  of  'em?  The  tale  is  that  the  man 
who  starts  in  to  explore  carries  with  him  a  ball  of 
twine " 

"  Stop,  Johnny,  stop ! "  interrupted  Sylvia,  ex 
citedly  ;  "  I've  not  done  yet !  I  didn't  forget  what  you 
told  me  about  the  twine.  Way  up  on  a  ledge  above 
my  head  was  an  iron  ring  in  the  rock,  and  there  was 
a  ball  of  twine  fastened  to  it!  Now  what  do  you 
think?"  ' 

"  Go  on — go  on !  "  gasped  Johnny. 

"  Well,  of  course  I  took  it  down,  and  unwinding  it, 
started  off.  '  I'm  here  to  help  him,'  I  thought,  '  so 
where's  the  use  of  being  scared? '  I  unwound  the  ball, 
and  unwound,  and  presently  I  came  to  a  round  sort  of 
room;  and,  Johnny,  there  was  a  gramma  there,  and 
traces  of  animals,  and  bits  of  rope,  and  things  that 
looked  like  branding-irons.  I  remembered  what  you 
said  and  did  not  try  to  go  farther,  but  I  believe  there's 
one  cave  after  another  there — that  there's  no  end  to 
them ! " 

Both  women  sat  silent  for  a  while. 

"I'm  a  study  in'  "  said  the  elder,  finally;  then 
turning  quickly  on  her  companion  and  laying  her  hand 


324        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

upon  her  knee:  "What  say  to  me  an'  you  workin' 
this  racket  to  ourselves  ?  " 

"And  the  train-robbers,  Johnny?" 

"That  is  as  it  may  be,"  was  the  sapient  reply. 
"  Are  you  willin'  ?  " 

Was  Sylvia  willing! 

John  Cristol  was  a  wise  man  in  his  generation. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

SYLVIA  was  mistaken  as  to  stout  women's  powers 
of  contraction.  Previous  to  this  apparent 
miracle,  however,  Johnny  had  induced  Doug 
las  to  ride  to  Antelope  Canon  on  her  behalf,  and 
see  to  it  that  all  went  well  with  Ted  and  the  ranch,  and 
to  tell  the  boy  to  lock  up  the  house  and  bring  Nino 
and  "  come  on,  if  so  be  as  he  felt  like  it ;  Maw  was 
awful  stuck  on  Mrs.  Archibald,  and  wanted  to  stay  at 
Bubbling  Spring  a  while."  But  Ted,  the  budding 
ranchman,  did  not  feel  like  it,  and  sent  back  word  that 
there  was  a  heap  to  do.  Mrs.  Johnson,  therefore,  con 
sidered  herself  at  liberty  for  a  few  days. 

In  her  wily  brain  other  ideas  than  those  appertain 
ing  to  stolen  cattle  were  revolving.  It  could  scarcely 
be  that  any  train-robbing  business  could  be  carried  on 
in  such  dangerous  surroundings ;  yet  extreme  fool- 
hardiness  sometimes  "  gets  there."  Johnny  pondered, 
but  said  little.  To  surprise  John  Cristol  would  indeed 
be  a  prize  worth  playing  for! 

How  she  entered  the  cave  cannot  be  told;  suffice  it 
to  say  that  she  was  able  to  follow  the  slender  Sylvia 

325 


326        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

with  a  despatch  that  amounted  indeed  to  the  mir 
aculous. 

All  within  was  as  Sylvia  had  described  it.  Silently 
the  two  women,  the  foremost  holding  firmly  to  the 
twine,  continued  on  past  the  open  space  evidently  de 
voted  to  the  cattle  interest,  and  went  from  cave  to  cave. 
Sylvia  recognised  at  once  the  improbability  of  these 
being  the  homes  of  ancient  cave  dwellers;  it  was  far 
more  likely  that  the  limestone  formation  was  respon 
sible  for  their  existence.  However,  this  was  neither 
the  time  nor  the  place  for  geological  discoveries.  At 
last  Johnny  called  a  halt. 

"There's  a  kind  of  stairway  here.  What  say — 
shall  we  go  up  ?  "  And  she  leaned  her  arm  against  the 
rock  wall  in  momentary  hesitation,  her  elbow  sank 
inwards.  With  a  cry  she  struck  a  match.  "Oh, 
my  dearie,  my  dearie,  we've  got  em'  sure!  Cattle- 
rustlin'  ain't  a  patch  on  it — ain't  in  it  with  this ! " 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  less  experienced  woman. 

"Oh,  nothin',"  was  the  sarcastic  retort — "nothin' 
at  all !  Only  a  can  of  white  powder,  and  one  of  dyna 
mite,  and  tools  to  prize  open  express-safes,  that's 
all!" 

Ranged  upon  a  ledge  were  these  implements  of  de 
struction.  After  a  short,  breathless  pause,  Johnny 
proceeded : 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        327 

"Now  it's  my  belief  as  this  stairway  goes  on  up 
into  the  house;  and  if  that's  so,  we've  cornered  the 
whole  gang — run  'em  to  earth,  all  right.  They've 
waited  an  awful  long  time  since  failin'  on  that  other 
hold-up,  and  now  we  know  for  sure  they're  a-goin  to 
try  it  again.  That's  jes'  what  John  is  strivin'  night 
an'  day  to  get  on  to.  There's  jerked  venison  here,  too, 
an'  some  awful  dry  tortillas — an'  liquor,  as  I'm  a  livin' 
woman !  Vll  liquor  you  all,  an'  pretty  soon,  too,"  she 
added  in  a  bloodthirsty  aside,  "  or  my  name's  not  Polly 
Johnson ! " 

Suddenly,  Sylvia's  ear  caught  a  sound — a  strange, 
muffled  sound,  which  escaped  the  other  woman's  duller 
hearing. 

"Hush,  Johnny!    Listen!" 

They  had  with  them  a  small  bull's-eye  lantern, 
which  in  her  excitement  Johnny  had  discarded  for  a 
match.  This  lantern  Sylvia  now  took  from  her, 
darkening  it. 

"  It's  some  one  a-stompin'  overhead,"  whispered 
Johnny. 

They  listened  again.    The  sounds  ceased. 

"  We've  got  to  hump  ourselves  an'  git  out  o'  this," 
was  Johnny's  next  remark. 

They  approached  the  entrance  of  the  caves,  and 
there  paused  again. 


328        THE   HUMAN  TOUCH 

Both  women  had  walked  from  Bubbling  Spring,  so 
there  were  no  horses  to  betray  them;  but  on  the 
mountain  trail  was  little  or  no  cover. 

"Wouldn't  it  be  safer  to  wait  until  dark?" 
whispered  Sylvia. 

"  No,  no !  Best  take  chances  as  they  happen  around. 
We  took  stock  of  'em  oncet  afore  we  got  started; 
that's  enough.  An'  I  ain't  scart  of  any  one's 
a-glimpsin'  of  me ;  two  women  has  as  good  a  right  to 
walk  on  the  trail  as  the  next  feller." 

So  saying,  Johnny  squeezed  into  the  open  and 
scudded  rapidly  across  the  road,  upon  the  far  side  of 
which  she  came  to  a  halt,  viewing  the  scenery  with  a 
bland  and  disengaged  air.  Just  as  Sylvia  was  about 
to  follow,  a  horseman  rounded  the  corner. 

It  was  an  anxious  moment.  Was  the  rider  Berry, 
or  only  one  of  his  gang? 

"That  you,  Bob  Jones?  Didn't  know  you  all  to 
oncet.  Got  to  thinkin'  as  you  must  have  gone  out  on 
the  bum." 

"  Been  awful  rushed  on  the  range,"  was  the  rather 
sullen  reply. 

"You  rushed?  My  sakes!" — scornfully.  Johnny 
would  have  sniffed  at  the  idea  of  propitiating  even  her 
deadliest  foe. 

"What you  a-doin'  around  here,  anyhow?" 


"  You  sure  is  gettin'  sassy  for  your  years,  Bob !  " 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        829 

"  Jes'  a-stoppin'  to  Bubblin'  Spring  awhile,  along 
with  a  lady-friend  who's  been  sorter  sick.  I  always 
was  a  great  one  for  the  puny  and  peaked  folks,  you 
know." 

This  being  a  fact  common  to  sectional  history,  Bob 
for  the  instant  was  nonplussed ;  then  proceeded  grum- 
blingly : 

"  Looks  queer  to  see  you  afoot.  Guess  as  you  sus- 
picioned  you  was  gittin'  too  fleshy.  You  an'  Mat'll 
make  a  fine  team  when  you  gits  ready  to  hitch  up." 

"  You  sure  is  gittin'  sassy  for  your  years,  Bob  1 " 
Then  came  the  laugh  and  the  inevitable  "  gassin'," 
and  at  last  the  cowboy  showed  symptoms  of  moving 
on  in  response  to  Johnny's, 

"  Well,  so-long !  I'm  off !  Guess  my  lady's  a-waitin' 
on  me." 

And  from  behind  her  rock  Sylvia  saw  her  compan 
ion's  solid  form  slowly  disappearing  around  the  butte, 
whilst  the  clatter  of  hoofs  proclaimed  the  departure 
of  Bob  Jones. 

She  was  at  Johnny's  side  almost  before  the  latter 
lady  had  time  to  think,  for  a  year  spent  with  a  man  of 
David's  temperament  had  not  been  wasted  upon  her. 
It  was  well  that  she  had  in  this  instance  profited  by 
these  lessons,  for  in  two  minutes  Bob  was  back  again. 
All  he  got  for  his  pains,  however,  was  a  glimpse  of  the 


330         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

two  women  walking  in  a  leisurely  manner  toward 
Bubbling  Spring.  The  oaths  that  he  poured  forth 
unsparingly  availed  him  nothing.  There  was  also 
nothing  to  tell  the  "boss." 

The  women  said  little  until,  as  Johnny  succinctly 
expressed  it,  they  had  "cooled  off,"  figuratively  as 
well  as  actually.  Her  opinion  proved  to  be  that  Cristol 
must  be  notified  without  loss  of  time  of  their  "  find," 
and  of  their  belief  that  the  rocky  stairway  led  up  into 
the  Berry  house,  and  that  the  "  stompin' "  overhead 
was  produced  by  the  heavy  boots  of  a  man.  To  this 
end  she  took  Douglas  partially  into  her  confidence, 
whereupon  he  agreed  to  go  down  the  mountain  after 
Cristol,  and  appoint  a  meeting  with  him  for  Mrs. 
Johnson  at  her  ranch  on  the  ensuing  day.  It  was  not 
deemed  advisable  that  the  sheriff  should  appear  again 
so  soon  at  Bubbling  Spring;  for  so  far  as  could  be 
ascertained  Berry  had  no  notion  of  Cristol's  suspi 
cions  in  regard  to  his  ranch  around  the  shoulder  of  the 
mountain,  and  had  never  seen  the  sheriff  in  that 
vicinity.  Meantime,  the  women  waited,  after  the 
accustomed  manner  of  women.  Cristol  sent  word  that 
he  was  coming  to  Bubbling  Spring  anyhow,  risk  or 
no  risk.  Therefore  his  feminine  allies  waited,  whilst 
Cristol  pondered. 

For  he  had  much  to  consider.     One  false  step  now, 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        331 

and  the  game  would  be  lost.  He  had  already  slipped 
down  into  Mexico,  and  had  there  located  one  of  his 
men,  and  by  the  promise  of  ample  reward  had  lured 
him  back  to  the  Territory,  in  a  safe  corner  of  which 
the  sheriff  kept  him  under  his  hand.  So  far,  so  good. 

Mrs.  Johnson  was  one  of  the  voluble  persons  who 
are  masters  of  the  art  of  secrecy.  The  sheriff  was 
absolutely  sure  of  her ;  of  Sylvia  also.  So,  arriving 
at  Bubbling  Spring  for  a  late  supper,  he  proceeded 
to  unfold  his  tale. 

"  The  old  rascal ! "  he  concluded,  unable  to  forbear 
a  final  chuckle. 

"  John,  ain't  you  'shamed  to  crack  even  so  much  as 
a  smile  over  that  feller  ?  "  exclaimed  Johnny,  reproach 
fully.  "Jes'  to  set  here  an'  think  how  he's  foolin' 
that  church-member  crowd  down  to  Rosalia  is  enough 
for  me.  An'  you've  got  it  down  right,  sure  pop?  "  she 
added,  anxiously. 

"  Sure  pop,  old  lady ! "  replied  the  sheriff,  marking 
each  phrase  with  his  finger  close  under  Johnny's  nose. 
"  The  cattle-rustlin',  the  kidnappin',  and  now  the 
train-robbin' — catch  on  ?  " 

Johnny  nodded  admiringly ;  and  he  continued : 

"Then  there's  three  shootin's  in  the  mountains  as 
come  o'  that  Long  Tom  business — more  o'  that  old 
bad  egg's  work !  But  I've  started  out  to  get  even 


332         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

with  him,  and  I'll  do  it.  I'll  take  in  the  whole  shootin' 
match,  if  the  gang  punches  me  full  o'  holes  before  I 
get  through!" 

The  sheriff  swung  on  his  heel,  and  paced  the  porch, 
his  stalwart  ally  watching  him  with  anxiety  in  her 
eyes. 

"  Now,  John,"  she  said,  "  don't  go  for  to  do  nothin' 
rash,  an'  p'raps  pass  in  your  checks  with  nothin'  to 
show  for  them." 

But  Cristol  did  not  reply  at  once. 

"  It's  out  of  sight ! "  he  murmured,  smiling  an 
anticipatory  smile.  Then  he  came  back,  and  seated  him 
self  between  his  allies.  In  lowered  tones  he  started  to 
unfold  his  schemes.  He  and  Johnny  had  long  believed 
that  the  Berrys  were  in  some  way  connected  with  the 
two  train-robberies  that  had  occurred  within  the  last 
two  years.  The  fact  that  Vin  Berry  had  recently,  by 
means  of  some  mysterious  "pull"  on  the  road, 
obtained  a  position  as  brakeman  on  the  through  mail, 
did  not  in  the  least  affect  these  beliefs. 

"  I  suspicion  as  Berry's  pull  comes  in  with  the  ex 
press  agent  as  acts  as  sheriff  of  the  road  and  travels 
for  them,"  said  Cristol.  "  The  old  hypocrite  stands 
high  with  them  as  is  easy  fooled,  an'  lives  reputable 
an'  quiet  down  to  Rosalia,  an'  has  a  big  followin'  of 
good  as  well  as  bad,  as  we  seen  at  the  elections — that 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         333 

is,  in  the  valley ;  in  the  mountains  folks  has  got  more 
gumption.  Remember  the  case  o'  Jem  Alton,  Mrs. 
Johnson,  when  you  was  first  married  an'  come  here  to 
live?  Well,  this  is  the  very  same  yarn  told  over! 
Alton  was  a  respected  citizen  and  a  peace-officer,  too, 
and  his  compadre  had  been  a  Wells  Fargo  agent  and 
knew  the  ropes.  Between  them  they  cleaned  up  an 
express-car,  and  then  vamoosed  into  the  Arizona 
desert,  and  was  the  most  bloodthirsty  outlaw  an'  cat- 
tle-rustlin'  outfit  in  the  whole  Territory.  Then,  when 
things  got  too  hot  for  them  in  Arizona,  they  come  over 
the  border,  an'  I  was  on  hand  when  we  cleaned  them 
up,  sure ! " 

"An'   wa'n't  no  slouch,   neither,  I  bet!"   put  in 
Johnny. 

The  sheriff  smiled  his  gentlest  smile,  and  proceeded : 
"  Well,  that's  how  the  land  lays — and  don't  you  for 
get  it!  I  could  easy  go  down  to  the  Courthouse  an' 
fetch  some  chap  of  a  lawyer  to  lay  his  eyes  on  that 
truck  as  you  found  in  Berry's  caves,  but  that  might 
make  more  trouble  in  the  end.  Law  ain't  justice  every 
time,  an'  my  aim  is  to  catch  the  old  thief  red-handed. 
Accordin'  to  my  readin'  of  his  mind,  the  old  man  ain't 
got  the  grit  to  board  no  train,  but  he'll  be  on  hand 
some  place — at  this  ranch  o'  his,  I'm  suspicionin'. 
Vin'll  give  'em  the  word,  all  right,  an'  there'll  be  two 


334         THE    HUMAN    TOUCH 

of  'em  to  fix  the  train  when  the  time  comes,  and  likely 
three  or  four  o'  the  Berry  outfit  a  half-dozen  miles  off 
the  railroad  with  fresh  horses  to  remount  the  first  fel 
lers  an'  send  'em  whoopin'  up  the  trail  to  the  caves — 
catch  on?  Then,  as  I  take  it,  the  fellers  as  is  waitin' 
will  ride  off  innocent-ways  in  another  direction ;  an'  if 
so  be  as  they're  caught,  why,  they're  only  a  respectable 
cattle-men's  cowboys  huntin'  strayed  stock.  Now  this 
bein'  a  critical  kind  of  a  job,  I've  sworn  in  the  King- 
don-Ranch  Dick  as  extra  deputy,  an'  notified  Kingdon 
to  be  on  call.  Them's  the  two  men  as  I  can  rely  on, 
whatever  comes."  Cristol  had  forgotten,  in  the  ab 
sorbing  interest  of  his  subject,  the  presence  of  Sylvia, 
who  now  gazed  upon  him  with  dilating  eyes.  "  Them 
chaps  has  orders  to  wait  on  the  trail  leadin'  to  Long 
Tom's  dug-out.  Kingdon  has  it  down  that,  if  Tom's 
in  this  racket,  it's  as  like  as  not  he'll  carry  the  stuff 
there,  an'  I  allow  as  it  may  be  so.  It  ain't  so  awful 
far  from  this  place  o'  Berry's,  but  it  ain't  on  the  same 
trail.  They'll  take  one  o'  the  forks  o'  the  road,  after 
meetin'  up  with  their  cow-puncher  friends,  an'  will  lay 
off  to  carry  the  swiped  stuff  to  the  dug-out,  an'  then 
make  tracks  across  the  mountain  to  these  caves.  I 
tell  you  they'll  have  to  chase  themselves  when  David 
Kingdon  has  it  up  to  them ! " 

The  sheriff  was  interrupted  in  the  enjoyment  of 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         335 

his  characteristic  chuckle  by  the  sudden  vision  of 
Sylvia's  face. 

"Not  that  there's  any  danger  to  speak  of,"  he 
hastened  to  add — "not  for  the  deputies,  that  is. 
They've  just  got  to  follow  an'  select  their  own  time 
for  attack.  Herell  be  most  trouble,  to  my  way  of 
thinkin' ;  that  is,  if  the  bandits  make  straight  tracks 
for  the  cave.  Mat  an'  me  has  got  to  handle  them 
here.  But  Kingdon's  laid  off  for  the  other  trail  be 
cause  he  is  so  awful  quick  an'  sudden — see?  " 

"And  what  am  /  here  for,  Mr.  Cristol?" 

He  hesitated  a  perceptible  moment. 

"Well,  Mrs.  Kingdon,  didn't  you  discover  them 
caves  ? — the  best  hit  that's  been  made  this  trip !  And 
there'll  be  some  more  still-huntin'  to  do  before  we  get 
through,  you  can  bet  on  that.  The  work  ahead  now  is 
men's  work,  so  far's  I  see.  But  right  now  I  want  you 
to  continue  doin'  as  you  have  been  doin' — watch  out." 

It  was  evident  that  Sylvia  was  not  satisfied,  and 
Cristol  wondered  what  she  had  in  her  mind  to  do. 

He  waited  for  the  setting  of  the  moon,  and  then 
took  his  departure,  promising  to  report  promptly. 

"  Cristol  don't  hold  no  chair  down ! "  was  Johnny's 
admiring  comment,  as  she  watched  the  fine  rider,  finely 
mounted,  disappear  rapidly  and  fearlessly  into  the 
enveloping  dark. 


336        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Sylvia  glanced  at  her  friend  with  eyes  at  once  sym 
pathetic  and  amused.  For,  the  primal  agony,  as  the 
primal  joy,  passed,  Sylvia  was  not  one  to  permit  either 
grief  or  happiness  to  possess  her  completely ;  and  this 
was  no  mere  matter  of  temperament.  Blood  and  tears 
had  gone  to  that  victory's  making.  In  her  present 
environment  she  was  envied  by  the  self-absorbed 
health-seekers  as  a  rich  widow  who  had  long  outgrown 
any  sorrows  she  might  have  had,  and  was  now  free  to 
lend  a  constant  ear  to  other  and  lesser  tales  of  woe. 
So,  except  for  here  and  there  a  man  or  woman  quick 
enough  to  note  a  certain  expression  stealing  unawares 
into  those  dark  eyes  of  hers,  or  the  lines  drawn  upon 
any  face  behind  which  lurks  heart  or  soul  or  brain  suf 
ficient  to  feel  pain's  impress  beyond  the  passing  hour, 
none  guessed  that  in  their  midst  was  a  woman  with  a 
history.  She  had  found  that  high  courage  which 
expands  instead  of  contracting  beneath  the  pitiless 
storm ;  yet  there  still  remained  one  thing  she  could  not 
bear — the  cry  of  a  little  child  in  grief  or  pain. 

"Such  a  misfortune  that  Mrs.  Archibald  does  not 
care  for  children!"  was  the  comment  often  made  by 
some  doting  mother  afflicting  a  patient  world  with  the 
One-Child  Curse — this  being  surely  a  nuisance  calling 
for  some  wise  and  equitably  applied  law. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

WHEN  a  drill  bucks  up  against  that  ar 
line  o'  rock,  it's  as  hard  as  the  hinges  of 
Old  Get-Out ;  but  it  ain't  no  harder  than 
John  Cristol,  once  he's  got  his  mind  sot !  " 

"  And  what  may  that  mean,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Jes'  this ;  he's  in  to  win  this  round,  or  pass  in  his 
checks." 

David  and  Dick  were  lying  in  the  shadow  of  a  great 
rock  set  in  a  thirsty  land.  It  was  still  broad  day,  but 
the  deputies  thus  summoned  on  special  duty  were  now 
resting  and  watering  their  horses  at  the  last  spring  to 
be  met  with  ere  they  arrived  at  their  destination.  The 
railroad  was  yet  far  distant,  and  the  mail-train  was 
due  at  Cottonwood  Bosque  at  nine  o'clock  that  night. 
Carlos,  the  Mexican,  had  so  far  proved  faithful.  That 
he  was  one  of  the  kidnappers  of  little  Davie  had, 
however,  determined  Cristol  on  keeping  him  out  of 
Kingdon's  way. 

At  home  David  had  had  no  questions  to  answer ;  for 
Clairette  had  gone  with  the  Gerry-Smiths  further 
north  for  the  summer,  and  her  husband  was  abandoned 

337 


338         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

to  his  own  devices.  Perhaps  she  might  not  have 
endorsed  these  same  devices,  though,  as  David  muttered 
to  himself,  they  were  harmless  enough — so  far  as  she 
was  concerned,  at  least. 

He  had  been  told,  of  course,  that  Sylvia  was  at 
Bubbling  Spring ;  knew  also  that  Cristol,  even  whilst 
providing  her  with  the  promised  distraction,  would  do 
his  utmost  to  see  that  she  came  to  no  harm ;  and  Cris- 
tol's  utmost  was  not  to  be  lightly  esteemed.  Yet  how 
was  it  possible  for  David  to  be  entirely  easy  as  to  her 
safety?  Of  the  hidden  fires  deep  down  in  her  nature 
he  had  long  since  been  made  aware ;  and  he  was  not 
aware  that  Cristol,  too,  had  made  his  discoveries, 
which,  although  of  necessity  but  partial,  had  served 
as  a  warning. 

Her  face,  her  eyes,  as  he  and  she  parted  across  the 
body  of  their  child,  haunted  him.  Here  was  a  woman 
the  intensity  of  whose  emotions  would  be  equalled  only 
by  their  endurance.  Feeling,  with  her,  would  be  no 
flash  in  the  pan,  quenched  swiftly  by  its  own  tears, 
and  which  in  dying  leaves  no  trace  behind.  In  Sylvia 
the  fire  was  undying;  concealed,  perhaps,  from  care 
less  sight  by  those  habits  of  self-control  and  consider 
ation  for  others  implanted  early  by  a  wise  father,  but 
liable  to  break  out  whenever  nature  should  fling  down 
its  guards  in  response  to  some  tremendous,  unforseen 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

call  upon  it.  The  call  had  rung  out  now ;  what  would 
Sylvia  do? 

Thus  sadly  mused  the  erstwhile  husband  of  Sylvia, 
as  he  lay  on  his  back  and  smoked  in  the  oasis  of  shadow 
splashed  like  a  dark  pool  on  the  expanse  of  high,  sun- 
smitten  mesa. 

What  would  Sylvia  do? — not  the  Sylvia  the  world 
knew,  but  his  Sylvia? 

Dick,  blessed  with  a  mind  less  strenuous,  was  mean 
while  enjoying  his  forty  winks  in  peace;  and  the 
horses  their  corn,  in  a  like  manner. 

In  the  late  afternoon  the  men  mounted  and  moved 
downward  until  they  arrived  at  the  forks  of  the  road 
and  the  edge  of  the  cottonwood  bosque  from  which  the 
little  depot  several  miles  beyond  took  its  name. 

Here  they  concealed  themselves  and  their  horses 
in  a  night  of  which  the  first  hours  would  be  moon 
less. 

The  instructions  were  that  the  game  was  to  be  a 
waiting  one.  There  was  to  be  no  fight  until  the  depu 
ties  rounded  up  their  prey  into  the  arms  of  the  sheriff 
and  the  other  deputy  at  Bubbling  Spring,  or,  still 
better,  at  the  Berry  ranch-house.  If  the  bandits  struck 
out  in  the  direction  of  Long  Tom's  place,  a  scout 
suitably  posted  was  to  carry  the  news  to  the  sheriffs 
at  Bubbling  Spring,  who  were  immediately  to  "  put  in 


340        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

their  best  licks"  across  the  mountain  to  the  other 
rendezvous. 

The  trail  branched  off  to  Long  Tom's  under  the 
foothills,  and  there,  in  the  rock,  was  one  of  the  charac 
teristic  formations  peculiar  to  limestone,  a  recess  just 
large  enough  to  hold  a  medium-sized  man. 

Now  although  Mat,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  lived 
up  to  the  description  usually  given  of  him  as  "  a  pretty 
independent  kind  of  a  feller,"  he  had  distinct  under 
standings  with  his  intimates  all  the  same.  There  abode 
with  him  a  boy,  offspring  of  a  white  man  and  a  Pima 
squaw,  whom  Douglas  had  caught  early  and  raised  as 
his  son.  It  was  whispered  indeed  that  Winged  Heel 
was  his  son  in  actual  fact.  The  only  fact  absolutely 
proven  was  that  the  half-breed  was  devoted  to  his  pro 
tector,  and  that  he  inherited,  as  is  rare  in  half-breeds, 
good  points  from  both  races;  from  the  Indian,  not 
merely  the  sober  and  industrious  qualities  of  the  Pima, 
but  the  Indian  fleetness  of  foot  also.  It  was  the  latter 
quality  that  had  obtained  for  him  the  Indian  name 
signifying  Winged  Heel.  It  was  he  who  was  to  lie 
hidden  in  the  hole  under  the  foothills  and  to  carry  the 
message  ahead  of  the  horsemen  to  the  expectant 
sheriffs. 

So  far,  so  good;  but  there  are  always  the  schemes 
of  mice  and  men  to  run  a-gley. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        341 

It  was  fair  to  assume  that  the  older  Berry,  true  to 
his  nature,  would  st&y  within  the  ranch-house  and 
refrain  from  showing  himself.  Indeed,  to  have  "  lain 
low  "  would  have  been  the  best  policy  of  a  bolder  man. 
But  even  with  Berry  the  unexpected  happened. 

He  had  steadily  claimed  that  at  this  small  ranch  he 
kept  his  imported  bulls  and  his  choicest  cows ;  and  in 
certain  quarters  whatever  Old  Man  Berry  claimed  was 
bound  to  "  go."  On  this  particular  day  his  boss  cow- 
puncher  (in  the  absence  of  Long  Tom),  Bob  Jones, 
was  herding  the  bunch  of  cows  in  a  gulch  below  the 
ranch-house,  wherein  since  the  coming  of  the  summer 
rains  the  grass  grew  high.  To  him  Berry  in  person, 
all  the  other  men  being  off  except  the  cook,  carried 
his  "  grub." 

Cristol  and  the  deputy  kept  in  retirement  at  the 
Spring.  As  the  afternoon  began  to  wear  away  Sylvia 
presented  herself  before  the  sheriff,  as  he  sat  upon  a 
bench  beneath  a  cedar  tree,  gazing  in  profound 
abstraction  upon  the  ground.  She  had  taken  to  riding 
on  a  man's  saddle  of  late  for  the  sake  of  its  incon- 
spicuousness,  and  was  habited  suitably,  in  khaki. 

"  Berry  has  gone  down  to  the  mesa,"  she  remarked 
abruptly. 

Cristol  whistled;  then  exclaimed: 

"What  in  the  name  of  all  creation's  come  to  old 


342         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Sam?  He  ain't  like  hisself  these  days.  Used  to  be 
skeered  o'  his  own  shadder.  We'll  have  to  get  to 
crowdin'  him  if  he  don't  quit  puttin'  up  so  much 
bluff."  The  sheriff  rose  as  he  spoke,  and  looked  across 
the  valley.  "  Must  feel  he's  awful  well  backed,  some 
way.  He  never  under  the  sun'd  dare  to  " — he  paused ; 
then  muttered,  "  I'd  risk  somethin'  to  take  a  scout  for 
him!" 

"Mr.  Cristol,  what  am  I  here  for?" 

It  was  the  old  question. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said  at  last,  in  the  fatherly  tones 
he  had  employed  toward  her  once  before,  "  my 
dear,  are  you  willing  for  that? — scout  work  in  the 
open  ?  " 

She  nodded  impatiently,  shaking  back  her  bright 
hair. 

"Well,  get  your  hat  then,  and  we'll  see  about  it." 

He  still  spoke  as  though  to  a  child — why,  he  could 
not  have  told.  Perhaps  it  was  the  pity  of  it. 

"  It's  awful  warm  for  you  yet,"  he  resumed,  doubt 
fully,  as  in  a  flash  she  was  again  at  his  side. 

"  No  matter ;  it's  better  so.  Berry  knows  I'm  in  the 
saddle  most  of  the  time;  so  if  he  sees  me  he  won't  be 
apt  to  suspect  anything.  Don't  worry,  kind  friend !  " 
she  added,  gently,  laying  her  white  hand  for  a  fleeting 
instant  on  the  strong  brown  one  outspread  on  the 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         343 

bench.  Then  with  a  little  laugh,  "  And  you  know  the 
kind  of  animals  he  rides ! " 

"  Plugs  !— the  last  one  of  'em ! " 

"  Well,  then,  why  do  you  fear  for  me?  " 

"  Oh,  I  guess  you're  all  right.  But,  Mrs.  Kingdon, 
t'ain't  worth  while  to  take  risks.  If  he  talks  or  acts 
ugly,  have  the  Boy  shake  his  heels  in  his  face — see?" 

"  Yes,  I  see." 

And  with  the  smile  still  on  her  lips,  Sylvia  turned 
and  ran  lightly  up  the  steep  path  toward  the  corral. 

"  If  Berry  catches  sight  of  me,  he'll  go  back  to  his 
lair.  That's  what  I'm  out  for,"  she  said  to  herself, 
as  she  rode  in  a  leisurely  manner  toward  the  mesa. 
The  lowering  sun  slanted  in  her  eyes,  but  she  tipped 
her  wide  hat  over  them,  and  from  beneath  its  shelter 
gazed  over  the  broad  expanse  of  mesa  and  valley.  Not 
a  moving  thing  was  to  be  seen,  except  far  away  the 
smoke  of  a  train. 

It  was  sunset  when  at  last  she  decided  to  return. 
The  cool  night  breeze  of  high  altitudes  was  already 
blowing  in  her  face,  yet  not  a  sign  had  she  seen  of 
Berry. 

But  stay — not  a  hundred  yards  distant,  in  strong 
relief  upon  the  gilded  sky,  appeared  the  figure  of  a 
mounted  man.  He  was  threading  his  way  slowly 
through  the  Spanish  daggers  and  grease-wood  bushes 


344        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

crowning  the  summit  of  a  sand  hill,  and  was  evidently 
reconnoitring  the  downward  trail. 

Sylvia's  first  feminine  impulse  was  to  give  her  swift 
horse  the  rein,  and  get  away  from  the  man  from  whom 
her  whole  being  shrank ;  but  common  sense  prevailed, 
and,  slowly  rounding  upon  her  tracks,  she  held  the 
Boy  to  his  rhythmic,  swinging  walk. 

The  inexpressible  loneliness  of  mesa  and  desert  is 
something  to  which  the  impressionable  never  become 
habituated,  and  it  strikes  them  anew  each  time,  as  a 
deep  joy  or  as  an  unutterable  terror.  And  set  in  the 
midst  thereof  was  the  woman  and  her  enemy. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  beside  her. 

"  Good-evenin',  Mrs.  Archibald,  or  whatever  it  may 
now  please  you  to  call  yourself." 

"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Berry." 

"  'Pears  as  how  you're  set  on  runnin'  that  fine  horse 
o*  yours  clean  off  his  legs,  ridin'  around  all  the  time ! 
Heard  as  how  you  was  grievin'  to  death  about  the 
young  one,  but  it  don't  look  that  way.  Well,  that's  all 
right;  take  it  philosophical,  I  see.  A  kid  as  has  a 
Paw  as  dassen't  show  up  as  sech,  has  a  tough  time 
anyway.  Best  as  it  is,  maybe;  an'  I  guess  you've 
learned  as  there's  other  good-lookin'  fellers  in  the  world 
but  one,  eh?  Then  they  do  tell  as  how  his  wife  makes 
awful  good  times  for  him  these  days,  and  that  she's 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        845 

got  real  smart,  an'  as  pretty  as  a  June  peach.  No 
more  talk  of  her  dyin' !  Ain't  been  in  the  way  to 
see  her,  I  guess?  Well,  you've  sure  lost  something 
then!" 

The  man  was  leaning  forward,  peeping  under  the 
broad  sombrero  of  the  woman. 

"  It  don't  even  phase  her ! "  was  his  inward  com 
ment.  "  Ain't  she  got  the  grit,  though ! " 

And  she — the  real  she,  of  whom  the  Berrys  of  life 
never  obtain  so  much  as  a  glimpse — lay  quivering 
and  tortured  at  his  very  feet,  had  he  but  known  it ! 

On  he  went,  lumbering  back  and  forth  between 
insulting  gallantry  and  studied  insolence,  until  finally, 
goaded  by  her  impenetrable  coldness,  he  gave  himself 
away.  This  was  the  moment  for  which  Sylvia  had 
been  waiting. 

"  If  it's  so  as  you're  wantin*  to  meet  up  with  that 
old  sweetheart  o'  yours  again,  an'  I'm  interruptin'  a 
rendervoo,  why  don't  mind  me!  Kiss  an'  never  tell's 
my  motter !  So  long  's  the  wives  ain't  none  the  wiser, 
no  matter,  says  I !  Turn  around,  an'  I'll  ride  with 
you  a  piece,  jes'  to  show  as  I  don't  bear  no  malice. 
What  say?" 

Sylvia's  heart  bounded;  then  sank.  This  man 
knew  that  he,  David 

Misinterpreting  her  hesitation,  Berry  edged  nearer, 


346         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

trying  to  catch  her  rein,  but  the  Boy,  disliking 
strangers,  foiled  him.  Then  Berry  with  a  telltale 
adroitness — for  in  such  small  matters  do  men  betray 
themselves — seized  the  saddle-horn,  and  suddenly 
throwing  his  arm  around  the  rider,  leered  up  in  her 
face. 

Then  came  the  transformation.  In  an  instant  she 
was  a  creature  all  spirit,  fire,  and  flame.  She  was  no 
longer  afraid.  It  had  taken  but  an  instant  to  free 
herself  from  his  contaminating  touch.  That  mere 
human  part  of  Sylvia,  held  down  so  long,  was  up  now 
and  springing  to  the  unchecked  realisation  of  the 
fact  that  here  was  the  man  responsible  for  the  death 
of  her  child,  for  the  attempt  to  blast  the  father's 
reputation  in  the  past,  for  murder  in  the  future  if  so 
be  he  could  compass  it  unharmed  himself. 

Even  a  fellow  of  the  baser  sort  could  no  longer 
misapprehend  her.  Hers  was  the  truculence  of  a 
Sir  Galahad  confronting  alone  a  mortal  foe.  And  as 
the  last  and  grossest  insult  fell,  haltingly  this  time, 
from  the  man's  loose  lips,  she  learned  toward  him, 
her  eyes  gleaming  and  her  own  lips  set  in  a  thin  red 
line. 

Then  with  the  deliberation  of  emotion  at  white 
heat,  she  raised  her  light  riding-cane  and  cut  him 
once  across  the  face.  A  moment  later  her  horse's 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        :il7 

feet  were  scattering  the  desert  sand  as  the  whirl 
wind  scatters  it. 

"  Damn  blooded  stock ! "  sputtered  Berry,  after 
having  rid  himself  of  a  volley  of  oaths,  though  not 
of  a  smarting  cheek  or  of  the  dust  with  which  eyei 
and  mouth  were  filled.  As  his  cow-pony  dropped 
rapidly  to  the  rear,  he  had  half  a  mind  to  send  a  shot 
after  her,  woman  as  she  was.  Nothing  restrained 
him  but  cowardice ;  he  knew  that  she  abode  under  the 
roof  of  the  redoubtable  Mat. 

"  No  sense  in  wearin'  out  good  spurs  on  this  old 
plug!"  was  his  judicious  conclusion.  "Can't  come 
up  with  that  devil's  limb,  anyway;  I'd  sure  like  to 
cripple  the  brute,  but  the  resk's  too  big  to  take  this 
time." 

Meanwhile,  Sylvia,  still  at  white  heat,  rode  on, 
pausing  only  at  the  hole  in  the  rocks,  an  idea  having 
just  struck  her.  She  crept  in,  emerging  almost  at 
once  with  a  package  in  her  hand.  Remounting,  she 
proceeded  to  Bubbling  Spring,  removed  the  bridle 
and  loosened  the  saddle-cinch,  watered  and  fed  her 
horse,  and  then  went  straight  to  Mat's  den,  where  the 
three  men  sat  in  earnest  confabulation. 

Briefly  she  made  her  report ;  then  laid  the  contents 
of  the  package  on  the  table  for  examination. 

"Now     we've     got     there!"     ejaculated     Cristol. 


348        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  Thanks  to  this  lady !  Berry's  lookin'  out  for  a  big 
thing  to-night,  sure!  But  he  don't  know  what  the 
deputies  are  down  there  for;  that  I'd  stake  my  last 
dollar  on!  Unless  the  Injun's  gone  back  on  us,  he 
thinks  as  the  deputies  is  after  that  Mexican  as  broke 
into  the  post-office  over  to  La  Media  last  week.  7  put 
him  on  to  that  lay-out,"  chuckled  the  sheriff.  "  My 
greaser  done  the  old  fool  brown,  you  can  bet  your 
life !  As  for  these  here  cartridges  an'  the  grub,  why, 
it's  reasonable  as  Berry  stowed  'em  in  the  hole  for 
use  at  the  dug-out — see?  Same  time," — thought 
fully — "I'd  a  heap  rather  not  take  chances  on  the 
route.  It's  on  the  cards  as  Berry  himself  ain't  so 
awful  sure." 

Then  in  a  few  words  Cristol  informed  Sylvia  that 
Winged  Heel  had  mysteriously  disappeared,  and  that, 
although  Douglas'  belief  in  the  boy  was  not  to  be 
shaken,  the  situation  was  disquieting.  Having  ex 
plained,  he  turned  to  the  men. 

"  This  is  about  the  size  of  it,  boys.  One  of  you  has 
got  to  lay  around  some  place,  an'  not  too  far  from 
where  the  trail  breaks  off,  neither,  same  as  the  Injun 
was  a-goin'  to  do,  only  you've  got  to  be  mounted  to 
git  away  quick.  There'll  be  trouble  in  hidin',  an'  its 
resky,  but  I  don't  see  as  there's  no  other  scheme. 
When  you  see  for  sure  which  way  the  bandits  is 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        349 

headin',  then  you  must  make  your  best  licks  for  me, 
an'  we'll  either  meet  'em  at  the  ranch,  as  fixed,  or  cut 
around  the  mountain  to  the  dug-out — see?  May 
be," — glancing  at  Sylvia — "  Mrs.  Archibald  will  loan 
her  fast  horse  for  this  trip  ?  It's  got  to  be  a  fast 
one,  that's  sure !  " 

"  I  can  do  better  than  that,  Mr.  Cristol.  I  will  go 
myself." 

At  the  sound  of  the  quiet  voice,  the  eyes  of  all 
three  men  were  bent  upon  the  woman  in  their  midst. 
She  had  taken  the  chair  offered  her  upon  her  entrance, 
and  now,  drawing  off  her  gloves,  she  folded  and  laid 
them  on  the  table  before  proceeding. 

"My  plan  is  this:  I  will  go  down  the  trail  and 
conceal  the  horse  behind  a  big  rock  I  know  of  about 
one  hundred  yards  from  the  hole.  This  rock  is  well 
off  the  trail,  and  I  can  lie  on  the  top  of  it  without 
being  seen.  I  will  take  sugar  for  the  horse."  A  fem 
inine  device  surely,  but  not  a  man  of  them  smiled. 
"  That  will  keep  him  from  nickering  when  he  hears 
the  other  horses.  If  by  chance  I  am  discovered,  I 
can  get  away ;  as  you  all  know,  there  is  not  a  horse  on 
the  ranges  that  has  the  speed  of  mine." 

"They  may  shoot,  Mrs.  Archibald,"  put  in  the 
sheriff,  dubiously,  although  it  was  evident  that  her 
suggestion  had  removed  a  load  from  his  mind. 


350         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  I,  too,  can  shoot,"  was  the  dry  response. 

From  a  pistol  pocket  in  the  folds  of  her  skirt 
Sylvia  produced  a  six-shooter,  and  laying  it  beside  her 
gloves  looked  with  calm  assurance  from  one  to  the 
other  of  her  audience. 

As  in  most  things,  there  are  revolvers  and  revolvers ; 
this,  of  its  kind,  was  perfect.  Each  man  took  it  up, 
passed  his  encomium  on  the  weapon,  and  handed  it 
to  his  fellow.  None  there  knew  that  it  was  David 
who  had  bought  it  for  Sylvia  after  the  eventful  night 
in  Kingdon's  Canon. 

"You're  right,  gentlemen,"  went  on  Sylvia,  in 
the  same  unmoved  tone.  "It  is  a  good  gun.  Shall 
I  prove  the  assertion  ?  " 

Without  awaiting  a  reply,  she  stepped  to  the  open 
door,  and,  apparently  not  pausing  to  take  aim,  fired 
four  times  with  rapidity  and  precision  at  a  mark  upon 
the  trunk  of  a  tree  opposite. 

The  men  ran  forward.  A  dollar  would  have  covered 
the  four  holes. 

"  Shake ! "  said  the  man  of  few  words. 

Not  a  trace  of  emotion  of  any  sort  was  visible  in 
Sylvia's  countenance  as  she  acceded  to  Mat's  request. 
The  brief  ceremony  concluded,  she  raised  her  eyes  to 
meet  those  of  the  sheriff,  gray  and  penetrating, 
rivetted  upon  her.  Did  he  divine  that  it  had  been  with 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        331 

but  one  object,  for  one  man's  sake,  that  she  had  over 
come  her  terror  of  the  deadly  little  weapon,  and  had 
made  herself,  not  certainly  the  equal  of  Cristol  him 
self,  but  of  any  average  man  on  the  ranges? 

Silently  Cristol  took  the  revolver  from  her,  removed 
the  empty  shells  and  reloaded. 

Thus  the  matter  was  decided.  And  for  once  Sylvia 
was  glad  of  the  absence  of  the  faithful  Johnny, 
necessitated  by  measles  on  the  part  of  Ted.  Now 
she  felt  free  to  incur  any  risks.  Even  Aunt  Julie 
was  away  on  a  short  vacation,  obedient  to  the  summons 
of  a  coloured  revivalist  at  Mendoza  City. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  before,  with  a  strong  hand 
clasp  and  a  "  Be-good-to-yourself !  Look  out  for 
them  about  eleven,"  Sylvia  was  started  on  her  way  by 
the  sheriff. 

In  order  to  avoid  the  jingling  of  bit  and  bridle, 
Cristol  had  twisted  the  hitching  rope  around  the  Boy's 
neck  and  muzzle  Mexican-wise ;  and  in  moments  of 
excitement  the  horse  was  more  amenable  to  the  voice 
and  hand  of  his  mistress  than  he  was  to  the  bit.  Their 
long  and  close  companionship  had  borne  good  fruits. 
So  now  the  two  slipped  almost  noiselessly  down  the 
trail  together,  until  they  came  to  the  big  rock.  There 
the  rider  dismounted,  tied  the  horse  to  a  hump  of 
bunch-grass,  and,  climbing  the  rock,  curled  up  behind 


352         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

a  kind  of  buttress  on  top,  facing  valley-ward.  It  was 
not  long  ere  her  eyes,  growing  accustomed  to  the 
starlit  dark,  took  in  quite  a  wide  sweep  of  landscape. 
As  she  crouched  thus,  the  wind  from  the  western 
skies  in  her  eyes  and  in  her  hair,  watching,  watching, 
every  keen  sense  alert,  her  spirit  flew  to  her  former 
home.  She  thought  of  Buckley,  the  kind,  firm  friend, 
ignorant  of  the  death  of  his  godson,  and  now  far 
away  across  the  ocean.  She  pictured  her  mother  and 
sisters,  serene  in  the  belief  that  her  "  reasonableness 
and  good  sense  "  were  leading  her  to  remain  in  retire 
ment  for  at  least  another  season.  Of  the  birth,  and 
of  the  death,  of  the  child  they  had  never  heard.  What 
would  they  think  of  her  reasonableness  and  good 
sense  could  they  see  her,  Sylvia  Newman,  the  cultured, 
blue-blooded  Society  girl,  the  hoped-for  founder  of  a 
real  Parisian  salon,  crouched  on  a  rock,  without  a 
chaperon,  toward  the  middle  of  the  night?  Sylvia 
laughed;  but  the  laugh  was  not  pleasant  to  hear. 
Fortunately  there  was  no  one  to  hear  or  heed.  She 
thought  of  her  encounter  with  a  human  brute  that 
very  afternoon;  imagined  her  mother  and  Berry  in 
juxtaposition,  even  for  an  instant,  and  laughed  again. 
The  idea  was  grotesque !  She  saw  herself,  her  father's 
daughter,  her  only  close  associates  men  and  women 
who  murdered  the  language,  who  were  outside  the 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        353 

outermost  limits  of  Society,  who This  time 

Sylvia  did  not  laugh.  She  arose,  and  standing  up 
right  in  her  straight  brown  dress,  lifted  her  eyes  to 
the  hills  and  to  the  stars. 

"  Thank  God  for  them ! "  she  said. 

Yet  the  tears  ran  down. 

Then  she  thought  of  him,  for  whose  sake  she  was 
an  outcast ;  for  whose  sake  she  was  alone  in  the  desert, 
under  the  stars.  And  the  tears  dried  upon  her  cheeks, 
and  she  crouched  once  more  upon  the  rock. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

SYLVIA  was  riding  down  the  trail.     Suspense 
and  indecision  had  crystallised  into  resolve. 
The  hour  had  long  passed  at  which  some 
kind  of  a  crisis  was  to  be  looked  for.    For  the  delay 
cause  must  be  shown. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  her  watch  had  been  close  and 
keen;  yet  out  of  the  ground,  as  it  seemed,  a  dark 
figure  suddenly  stood  before  her  horse,  which  startled, 
sprang  aside.  Having  quieted  him,  she  leaned  from 
the  saddle  to  look  into  the  upturned  face  of — Dick! 
So  close  was  he  that  even  in  the  darkness  there  was  no 
mistaking  him. 

Sylvia  carried,  attached  to  her  saddle-horn,  a 
minute  bull's-eye  lantern.  Opening  the  slide,  she 
centred  its  light  upon  his  features,  pale  as  ashes  and 
streaked  and  smeared  with  blood  and  sweat.  He  was 
panting  heavily,  and  now  supported  himself  against 
the  horse's  shoulder. 

" Dick— Dick— where  is  he?" 

To  the  strained  whisper  the  faithful  cow-puncher 
could  not  at  once  reply;  but  he  pointed  down  the 
trail.  Then  after  a  minute : 

354 


THE    HUMAN    TOUCH         355 

"  They  rounded  on  us  sudden,  four  to  two.  He 
ain't  hurt  so  awful  bad,  and  we  done  up  one  of  'em, 
an'  skinned  another.  Cartridges  give  out,  so  had  to 
come  off  an'  leave  him.  But  don't  worry,  he's  all 
right ;  fixed  him  up  behind  a  wall  o'  rocks,  an'  the 
durned  brutes  is  as  scared  o'  him  as  if  he  wuz  the 
Old  Nick  hisself !  I  am  makin'  tracks  for  ammuni 
tion  an'  to  warn  Cristol.  Say,  will  that  critter  carry 
double?" 

For  answer  Sylvia  slipped  to  the  ground. 

"  Mount ! "  she  exclaimed,  imperiously.  Then,  as 
he  stared  at  her  dumfounded,  "  If  you  got  away,  I 
can  get  back.  I'm  armed,  I  tell  you!"  As  he  still 
did  not  speak,  she  preceded  softly :  "  Dick,  you 
taught  me  to  shoot;  don't  you  remember?  Oh,  Dick 
— go!  " 

It  was  the  old  story  over  again,  the  tale  of  King- 
don's  Canon. 

"  But,  Mrs.  Kingdon,  t'ain't  no  way  for  you  to  do, 
to  run  right  into  that  devil's  nest!  Hand  me  the 
gun  an'  the  ammunition,  an'  you  ride  on  back  to  tell 
Cristol  an'  the  boys." 

"  No,  Dick !  He's  hurt,  you  say?  Well,  my  place 
is  with  him.  Tell  me  just  where  to  find  him ;  then  get 
all  you  can  out  of  the  Boy.  Ride — ride — I  tell  you  ! " 

Time  was  too  precious  to  be  wasted  in  vain  con- 


356        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

tention.  Dick  briefly  described  the  place,  an  arroyo 
a  mile  further  down. 

"Trust  me,  I'll  ride  like  hell!"  muttered  Dick, 
as  he  flung  himself  across  the  saddle,  paying  no  heed 
to  short  stirrups,  "  and  it  '11  have  to  be  like  hell  too  if 
I'm  a-goin'  to  head  off  them  bandits ! " 

"  Where  are  they  ? "  asked  Sylvia,  quickly,  as  he 
caught  the  rope  and  turned  the  plunging  horse. 

"Dunno,  after  we  beat  'em  off;  took  the  forked 
trail,  I  guess.  This  horse  has  got  to  get  ahead  of 
'em,  or  drop  in  his  tracks." 

"  He  will  get  ahead  of  them,  and  he  won't  drop  in 
his  tracks!" 

And  with  a  swirl  of  sand  and  a  sound  as  of  muffled 
thunder  the  Boy  was  off,  for  life  or  death. 

Running  along  the  dim  trail  valley-ward,  ankle- 
deep  and  over  in  sand,  now  losing  her  way  altogether 
and  stumbling  into  bunch-grass  and  thorny  cacti,  on 
sped  Sylvia,  crying  as  she  ran,  betwixt  fluttering 
breaths : 

"  David !     Wait  for  me !     I  am  coming ! " 

Could  Dick  have  gently  lied?     Was  David  dead? 

The  broad  arroyo — she  knew  it.  Adown  its  length 
lay  scattered  rocks,  washed  thither  by  generations  of 
summer  rains.  In  the  hollow  of  one  of  its  caving 
banks  Dick  must  have  built  his  barricade. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        357 

By  a  supreme  effort  she  steadied  herself  and  lis 
tened.  Not  a  sound — not  a  shot!  Three  minutes, 
the  equal  of  three  years,  she  waited,  prone  upon  the 
ground.  Against  the  sky-line  the  bank  of  the  arroyo 
was  defined;  beneath  that  David  lay,  living  or  dead. 
Measuring  the  distance  as  well  as  she  could,  she  arose, 
and,  stooping,  fled  across  the  open.  Halfway,  she 
stumbled — over  the  body  of  a  man.  By  what  instinct 
she  divined  that  it  was  not  the  body  of  David,  who  can 
tell?  With  a  stifled  cry  she  fled  on,  and  in  a  moment 
was  over  the  low  parapet  and  had  David's  senseless 
head  upon  her  knees. 

Mechanically  she  still  carried  the  bull's-eye  and  her 
riding-cane.  Hurriedly  she  threw  the  light  upon  his 
face;  then,  finding  no  wound  there,  ran  it  down  his 
body  and  limbs.  Yes,  he  was  bleeding — bleeding  to 
death  perhaps.  The  wound  was  just  above  the  knee, 
and  around  it  Dick  had  tied  a  bandanna.  But  the 
bandanna  had  slipped,  and  it  was  plain  that  either 
a  vein  or  some  small  artery  had  been  severed  by  a 
shot. 

Of  surgery  she  knew  nothing,  but  she  had  heard  a 
tourniquet  described,  and  she  had  always  her  common 
sense.  She  had  nothing  wherewith  to  cut  away  the 
trouser  leg  at  the  knee,  but  winding  the  bandanna 
above  the  wound  she  drew  the  ends  together  with  all 


358         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

her  strength,  and,  making  a  loop  of  the  ends,  inserted 
her  cane,  twisting  it  with  both  hands. 

As  she  leaned  over  her  work  an  ominous  sound 
penetrated  her  rapt  senses — doubly  ominous  as  is  the 
threat  of  peril  when  it  comes  belated.  It  was  a  sound 
never  to  be  mistaken — that  of  a  body  dragging  itself 
across  sand.  Not  for  one  instant  dared  she  pause 
at  her  task.  It  was  the  lifeblood  of  David  that  was 
flowing.  But  gradual  and  deadly  as  was  the  approach 
of  that  unknown  terror  beyond  the  frail  rampart,  as 
unhesitating  and  cautious  was  the  movement  of  her 
own  body  to  cover  that  of  him  whom  she  was  there 
to  save.  She  could  not  even  have  the  shelter  of  the 
darkness,  for  she  had  no  hand  to  spare  to  close  the 
lantern-slide. 

Two  more  turns,  then  the  knot,  and  her  work  would 
be  done,  and  she  could  face  the  stealing  foe. 

Would  nothing  delay  that  slow  yet  relentless 
approach?  Would  no  bolt  from  heaven  fall?  Was 
God  sleeping  in  the  hour  when  these  His  helpless 
creatures  needed  Him  the  most?  Blind  and  deaf, 
did  He  neither  hear  nor  see? 

As  she  tied  the  last  knot  and  slipped  the  lantern- 
slide  into  place,  the  deep-drawn  breaths  of  the  man 
on  the  further  side  of  the  barricade  surged  noisily 
through  the  silence.  In  another  moment  he  would 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         .V><> 

pull  himself  up — she  guessed  that  he  was  wounded — 
and  cover  her  with  his  gun. 

As  Sylvia  crouched  above  the  body  of  David, 
gripping  her  own  revolver,  she  recognised  with  that 
clearness  of  vision  which  attends  upon  a  forlorn  hope 
that  this  was  a  judgment  from  which  there  could  be 
no  appeal ;  she  or  that  man  must  die.  She  cocked  her 
own  weapon,  and  reopening  the  lantern,  shaded  the 
light  with  her  free  hand. 

Now  her  keen  ear  caught  the  creeping  of  flesh  over 
rock.  Any  instant  the  man  and  the  gun  would 
appear.  Thus  she  waited. 

Surely  now  was  the  supreme  moment !  She  with 
drew  her  left  hand  from  the  lantern,  and  its  light 
flashed  upon  the  face  of  Vin  Berry — ghastly  pale, 
and  like  that  of  some  evil  spirit  rather  than  of  a  man 
— and  along  the  level  barrel  of  his  gun.  But  the 
finger  upon  her  own  trigger  was  quicker,  and  the 
evil  face  disappeared. 

He  was  dead,  she  supposed — the  man.  She  was 
responsible  for  the  life  of  a  human  being  like  herself. 
Like  herself?  God  forbid!  The  day  of  reckoning 
had  not  come,  and  she  was  indifferent  except  to  the 
one  thought:  she  had  not  failed  David.  She  had 
done  for  him  the  best  she  could. 

She  picked  up  the  lantern,  and  she,  who  all  her  life 


360        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

had  shrunk  from  death,  stepped  coolly  to  the  side  of 
the  corpse,  turned  it  over,  and  looked  it  in  the 
face.  Dead  beyond  a  doubt.  Then  she  went  back  to 
David. 

The  improvised  tourniquet  had  done  its  work:  the 
bleeding  had  ceased. 

On  the  ground,  close  to  where  he  lay  and  undoubt 
edly  placed  there  by  Dick,  a  pocket  flask  had  been 
dropped  upon  an  empty  Winchester.  No  water  was 
to  be  had,  but  Sylvia  forced  a  few  drops  of  the  fiery, 
undiluted  liquid  between  David's  pale  lips.  In  a 
minute  or  so  he  murmured  something,  and  groped 
feebly  for  his  gun.  She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  still 
closed  eyes. 

"  Hush ! "  she  said ;  and  he  obeyed  her  like  a  child. 

Then,  again  rising,  she  made  a  pillow  of  her  light 
coat  and  laid  his  head  upon  it.  Creeping  once  more 
to  the  low  wall,  six-shooter  in  hand,  she  swept  the  semi- 
darkness  with  a  keen  glance.  Nothing  was  to  be  seen. 
The  stillness  was  intense,  except  for  the  steady  sigh 
ing  of  the  desert  wind. 

She  went  back  to  her  place,  and,  taking  his  head 
again  upon  her  lap,  once  more  administered  the  stim 
ulant.  As  she  leaned  over  him,  he  opened  his  eyes 
wide  and  full;  knew  her,  and  smiled. 

"Sylvia!" 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         361 

"Hush!"  she  said  again;  and  leaned  nearer,  her 
hand  upon  his  brow  and  in  his  hair. 

He  spoke  no  more.  Whether  he  slept  or  was 
unconscious  from  loss  of  blood  she  could  not  tell. 

And  Sylvia  would  not  have  been  all  woman  if  the 
peril  of  it  for  her  was  not  far  outweighed  by  the  deep 
joy  of  serving  him  whom  she  loved  not  merely  with  all 
the  might  of  her  humanity,  but  with  the  undying  and 
ennobling  passion  of  soul  and  spirit,  too.  In  the 
solemn  silence  of  the  desert  spaces,  God  and  the  stars 
above  and  none  to  come  between,  these  two  were  alone. 
He  was  hers  now — living  or  dead — hers  only. 

As  the  hours  crept  on,  and  the  tardy  moon  arose, 
her  mind,  like  his,  grew  benumbed.  For  her  any 
earthly  afterward  ceased  to  exist.  Everything  was 
for  the  time  forgotten — duty,  obligation,  the  other 
woman.  Nothing  mattered  now.  He  was  her*. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

A  ND  Dick  rode — rode  for  all  there  was  in  the 
/  %    horse. 

•^  -^-  When  he  came  to  the  point  where  the 
roads  branched  to  Bubbling  Spring,  the  Berry 
ranch,  and  the  dug-out,  respectively,  he  drew  up, 
flung  himself  from  the  saddle  the  better  to  listen,  and 
waited. 

Yes ;  there  was  no  mistaking  the  sounds  that  reached 
his  ear;  the  men  were  coming  on.  That  they  were 
bound  for  Berry's  Dick  already  knew.  In  trailing 
the  bandits — one  of  whom,  somewhat  to  the  deputies' 
surprise,  proved  to  be  Vin  Berry  himself,  thus  making 
the  number  three — information  had  been  procured. 
Of  the  three  cow-boys  who  had  met  them  as  arranged, 
one  had,  after  a  short  but  too  loud  altercation,  joined 
the  bandits. 

The  party  was  evidently  suspicious  of  being  fol 
lowed,  having  undoubtedly  got  wind  of  the  presence 
of  the  deputies  in  the  vicinity.  Finally  they  had 
separated,  in  the  darkness  had  slunk  back  on  the 
trail,  and,  rounding,  had  fallen  upon  the  deputies, 

362 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         863 

who  but  for  this  circumstance  would  have  remained 
undiscovered.  The  sound  of  shots  had  naturally 
brought  the  foremost  robbers  to  the  scene  of  action, 
with  the  result  as  already  told;  it  was  a  case  of  four 
to  two.  Nevertheless,  apart  from  Kingdon's  wound, 
the  deputies  had  most  distinctly  got  the  best  of  the 
game. 

In  a  moment  Dick  was  on  the  horse  again,  and 
tearing  up  to  Bubbling  Spring,  at  which  place 
Cristol's  presence,  he  now  knew,  remained  so  far 
undiscovered  by  the  Berry  gang. 

The  furious  thrashing  of  hoofs  had  been  heard 
by  the  expectant  sheriffs,  and,  as  the  Boy  and  his 
rider  leaped  into  view,  their  horses  sprang  forward, 
too. 

"  The  ranch-house ! "  cried  Dick. 

This  was  no  time  for  questions,  but  as  Dick  forged 
alongside  of  Cristol  the  latter  ejaculated  sharply: 

"  Out  with  your  news ! " 

"Him  an'  her's  in  the  big  arroyo.  He's  hurt 
pretty  bad.  I  packed  him  behind  the  rocks,  met  the 
horse,  took  it,  an'  come !  His  horse's  killed,  mine  got 
away.  They're  three  o'  them  robbers  now.  Yin 
Berry's  all  right ;  we  done  him  up  in  the  arroyo." 

To  the  Berry  house  past  Bubbling  Spring  was  the 
short  cut;  the  mountain  trail  was  a  full  half-mile 


364        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

farther ;  to  this  fact  and  to  the  speed  of  the  Boy  upon 
his  errand  Dick  had  trusted. 

Cristol  was  not  given  to  vain  lamentations;  never 
theless,  the  loss  of  Kingdon  at  this  juncture  was  a 
blow.  Two  men  for  the  house  and  two  for  the  caves 
had  been  his  plan.  Well,  he  himself  must  count  for 
two,  then ;  that  was  all  there  was  to  it. 

The  cave  entrance,  carefully  described  to  him  by 
Johnny,  was  upon  the  Bubbling  Spring  trail.  Not 
daring  to  stop  in  order  to  make  sure  as  to  the  present 
position  of  the  rock,  left  before  somewhat  recklessly 
out  of  place,  Cristol  simply  dropped  his  town-deputy 
at  that  point  together  with  the  three  horses.  Then, 
as  expeditiously  as  men  not  in  the  habit  of  using  their 
own  legs  could  run,  he  and  Dick  made  their  way  up  to 
the  house.  The  building  was  of  rock.  The  scanty 
allowance  of  window  space  was  barred  and  shuttered, 
and  there  was  but  one  door.  Behind  a  huge  outside 
chimney  the  sheriffs  concealed  themselves;  and  none 
too  soon,  for  already  upon  the  other  trail  rang  out 
the  clatter  of  iron-shod  hoofs.  With  a  scramble  and 
a  panting  of  badly  blown  horses  the  sounds  ceased 
at  the  door. 

Now  was  the  crucial  moment.  Only  waiting  for 
Berry  to  respond  to  the  pre-arranged  signal  and  to 
open  to  his  allies,  the  sheriffs  jumped  in  front  of  the 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        365 

unlocked  door,  and,  throwing  their  combined  weight 
upon  it  to  prevent  it  from  being  again  closed,  shouted 
the  customary,  "  Hold  up  your  hands ! " 

The  order  was  of  course  disobeyed,  and  was  equally 
of  course  followed  by  prompt  and  rapid  firing  on 
both  sides.  Berry  from  within  could  have  rendered 
efficient  aid  to  his  fellow-conspirators  had  he  not  had, 
as  usual,  excellent  reasons  of  his  own  for  acting  other 
wise.  The  Mexican  cook  did  not  put  in  an  appear 
ance.  Cristol  knew  at  once  that  Berry  intended  to 
escape  by  way  of  the  caves,  but  his  hands  were  for  the 
time  being  too  full  to  attend  to  him,  and  he  was 
compelled  to  leave  him  to  the  deputy  posted  down 
below. 

For  the  fight,  though  a  short,  was  a  merry  one. 
Cristol,  however,  had  picked  his  men  well;  moreover, 
both  sheriffs  were  fresh,  whereas  the  train-robbers 
were  a  somewhat  jaded  crew,  and  were  also  hampered 
by  their  booty ;  for  this  time  the  crime  had  evidently 
been  profitable — so  far. 

In  such  lightning-swift  encounters  as  this  one 
description  avails  little.  Shots  fly  thick  and  fast, 
and  it  is  principally  a  case  of  "  the  suddenest  man 
with  a  gun  getting  there."  In  less  time  than  it  takes 
to  write  the  words  Long  Tom  was  down  with  a  bullet 
in  his  thigh,  and  another  in  his  pistol  arm.  The  other 


366        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

men  made  a  brief  stand,  encouraged  by  the  sight  of 
blood  on  the  face  of  the  sheriff;  but  the  second  man 
was  soon  settled,  and  threw  up  his  hands,  whilst  the 
third — who  proved  to  be  Bob  Jones,  and  was  appar 
ently  in  charge  of  the  "swag" — dug  in  the  spurs 
and  fled. 

The  moon  had  risen,  but  was  a  small  affair  in  its 
third  quarter.  Cristol,  occupied  in  roping  his  pris 
oners,  could  do  nothing.  Dick,  however,  was  not 
easily  nonplussed.  Recklessly  hurling  himself  down 
the  precipitous  face  of  the  butte,  he  landed  on  his 
feet  beside  the  horses,  and,  telling  the  waiting  deputy 
to  watch  the  caves,  flung  himself  across  the  Boy.  Bob 
Jones'  good  start  on  the  mountain  trail  benefited  him 
but  little  with  such  a  horse  on  his  tracks.  The  instant 
the  Boy  perceived  a  rival  ahead,  he  extended  himself 
rapturously  for  a  race. 

Now  Bob  Jones  was  a  mountain-bred  lad — no 
genuine  "  bad  man  " — and  the  uncanny  ease  and 
rapidity  with  which  he  was  being  overhauled  rattled 
him  completely ;  and  when  was  added  to  this  the  fact 
that  his  pursuer  was  the  redoubtable  "  Kingdon 
Dick,"  and  that  he  was  to  be  caught  red-handed,  it 
was  no  wonder  that  he  did  not  enjoy  the  situation. 

Had  Bob  been  the  geniune  article,  the  affair  might 
have  terminated  less  promptly;  but  upon  Dick  rang- 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        367 

ing  up  alongside,  shouting  the  inevitable  words — 
followed  on  recognition  of  the  fugitive  by  the  ejacu 
lations  :  "  Save  your  skin,  Bob !  Don't  play  the 
damn-fool  act !  Are  you  gone  plumb  crazy  ?  " — Bob 
acted  wisely  and  well,  especially  as  he  had  sense  enough 
left  to  see  that  Dick  had  "  the  draw  on  "  him :  he  could 
do  better  than  be  "  punched  full  o'  holes,"  he  thought. 
So  he  threw  up  his  hands,  whilst  his  captor  quickly 
disarmed  him. 

"  Hand  over  all  that  stuff  you're  packin' ! "  was  the 
next  command.  Having  been  obeyed,  Dick  unwound 
the  coil  of  rope  from  his  prisoner's  saddle-horn,  tied 
his  arms  behind  him,  and  proceeded  to  round  him  up 
for  the  ranch-house. 

Arrived  there,  and  ascertaining  by  the  sound  of 
curses  the  whereabouts  of  the  two  first  prisoners, 
locked  into  a  room,  he  disposed  of  his  own  captive 
in  the  same  manner,  and  then  was  fain  to  confess 
himself  at  a  loss.  Where  was  his  chief?  Gone  after 
Berry,  he  guessed;  but  how  in  the  name  of  all 
creation  was  he  to  follow  him?  Well,  if  Cristol  had 
found  the  way  to  the  caves,  he  could ;  so,  picking  up  a 
lighted  lamp  he  found  on  the  kitchen  table,  he  started 
on  a  tour  of  investigation. 

Cautiously,  as  befitted  an  honest  man  in  a  den  of 
thieves,  Dick  went  on  his  way.  But  a  few  moments 


368        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

elapsed  before  he  observed  a  door,  of  which  the  lock 
had  very  evidently  just  been  forced  by  some  hasty 
hand.  Entering,  he  groped  almost  on  his  knees 
amongst  a  lot  of  old  saddles  and  such  lumber,  and 
then — hey,  presto,  no  more  time  need  be  lost!  For 
there,  revealed  by  the  removal  of  the  rubbish,  was  a 
ring  in  the  plank  floor.  A  violent  jerk,  and  up  flew 
a  trapdoor,  and  Dick,  lowering  his  lengthy  person 
through  the  opening,  planted  his  feet  firmly  on  steps 
cut  in  the  rock.  Lamp  still  in  hand,  and  on  the  alert 
for  danger,  he  began  the  descent,  incited  to  yet  greater 
speed  by  the  sound  of  voices  below. 

At  the  extreme  end  of  the  first  cave  stood  Berry, 
looking,  as  Dick  remarked  later,  like  a  cornered 
gopher.  Facing  him  was  the  sheriff,  the  expression 
of  whose  countenance  was  scarcely  at  the  moment 
more  agreeable.  Here  at  last,  delivered  into  his 
hand,  was  the  man  on  whose  trail  he  had  been  untir 
ingly  for  years,  the  cattle-thief,  train-robber,  child- 
murderer,  and  slanderer.  And — stranger  things 
have  been — it  was  on  these  two  last  counts  that  the 
sheriff  would  most  gladly  have  indicted  his  prisoner ; 
these  two  crimes  that  were  chiefly  responsible  for  the 
steely  gleam,  ominous  and  sinister,  in  his  cold  eyes. 

At  the  sound  of  his  deputy's  approach,  he  ceased 
speaking,  and  glanced  up  quickly. 


THE  HUMAN   TOUCH        369 

Near  at  hand  crouched  the  missing  half-breed ;  but 
from  his  face  nothing  was  to  be  learned.  At  this 
crisis  he  was  all  Indian — impenetrable,  unmoved. 

Cristol's  heel  was  upon  Berry's  Winchester;  a  six- 
shooter  was  flung  on  the  ground  out  of  reach.  Light 
was  afforded  by  a  lantern  high  up  on  the  wall.  At  a 
sign  from  his  chief  Dick  gathered  up  the  weapons, 
and  Cristol,  advancing,  snapped  a  pair  of  light  hand 
cuffs  upon  the  prisoner's  wrists.  To  the  sputtering 
oaths  and  protests  of  Berry  but  a  grim  and  curt 
response  was  forthcoming: 

"  I'll  make  sure  of  you  this  time.  You  can  do  all 
the  fool-talk  you've  a  mind  to  with  the  lawyers  an* 
preachers." 

The  twine  was  in  place  leading  to  the  mouth  of  the 
caves,  but  the  party  returned  by  the  way  they  came. 
A  few  words  of  explanation  sufficed  betwixt  Cristol 
and  his  deputy. 

"Berry  concluded  as  he  had  no  use  for  the  Injun 
nosin'  around,"  Cristol  remarked,  "  so  sent  Bob 
to  rope  him  in,  and  here  he  is.  That's  all  there  is 
to  it." 

And  the  mystery  was  solved  as  simply  as  other 
mysteries  have  been  solved  before. 

Arrived  in  the  house,  Cristol  proceeded: 

"I'll  send  this  muchacho  hot-foot  to  the  mining 


370        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

camp  for  the  doctor,  an'  we'll  pack  our  prisoners  to 
town  soon  's  their  wounds  is  dressed.  You  go  on  down 
to  Mat's.  Send  my  other  feller  up  to  me  as  you  go 
by.  Then  take  Mat's  light  wagon,  pile  in  blankets  an' 
pillers  an'  a  canteen,  an'  hump  yourself  for  the  big 
arroyo — see?  Bring  Kingdon  here.  Best  to  leave 
her  at  Mat's.  Catch  on  ?  Have  Mat  pack  some  grub 
to  us,  and  send  over  the  mountain  for  Mrs.  Johnson. 
There's  beds  here,  an'  pretty  soon  a  doctor.  Chase 
yourself,  Dick ! " 

And  Dick  chased  himself;  but  as  he  did  so  he 
wondered  whether  any  other  man  but  Cristol  would 
have  thought,  in  such  an  hour,  for  a  woman?  For 
Dick  understood  what  was  in  the  sheriff's  mind — the 
curious  crowds,  the  comments,  the  queries — Kingdon's 
erstwhile  wife  must  be  out  of  it  all. 

And  while  Douglas'  team  was  being  rapidly  hitched, 
Dick  found  a  few  minutes  in  which  to  care  for  the 
horse  that  had  done  such  good  service  that  night. 

"  She'll  be  sure  glad  to  know  it ! "  he  murmured. 
"An'  you're  all  right,  old  Boy!" — tossing,  as  he 
spoke,  corn  into  a  box  in  the  corral-shed,  toward  which 
the  animal  promptly  hurried.  "  You  can  put  in  such 
licks  as  I  never  seed  sence  I  was  born,  an'  you  can 
stay  at  'em,  an'  git  there,  too!  You're  a  good  horse 
all  right,"  he  repeated,  fondly,  feeling  under  the 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         371 

mane  for  the  "K"  he  himself  had  imprinted  there, 
"  an'  I  wish  as  you  was  mine ! " 

"Damn  blooded  stock!"  Berry  had  ejaculated  not 
twelve  hours  earlier.  Yet  from  his  own  point  of  view, 
strictly  his  own,  the  old  sinner  had  never  spoken  a  truer 
word  in  his  life. 

Dick  turned  away,  and,  springing  into  the  wagon 
as  the  last  trace  was  hooked,  went  storming  down  the 
trail. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

IT  was  some  weeks  before  Dick  could  trust  him 
self  to  relate  in  detail  the  story  of  that  little 
adventure.       He    was     a    soft-hearted     cow- 
puncher,  as  we  know. 

"  I  tell  you,  it  beat  the  band ! "  was  all  that  either 
Cristol  or  Johnny  succeeded  in  getting  out  of  him  at 
first.  "And  then  to  have  to  take  him  from  her,  an' 
she  there  the  best  part  o'  the  night,  all  alone  in  that 
old  arroyo,  a-holdin'  of  his  head  in  her  lap  an'  not 
knowin'  so  much  as  whether  he  was  a-goin'  to  pass  in 
his  checks  right  there  or  not!  An'  he  would  have 
died,  sure,  if  it  hadn'  ha'  been  for  the  way  she  fixed 
him  up.  Give  me  some  other  kind  of  a  job  next  time, 
I  tell  you!" 

Had  Sylvia  been  a  fainting  woman,  she  would  have 
been  unconscious  when  Douglas  lifted  her  from  the 
wagon  at  Bubbling  Spring.  Unconscious  she  was 
not,  but  the  alertness  of  all  her  senses  was  deadened, 
and  for  the  time  failed  to  respond  to  further  call  upon 
them;  even  her  bodily  muscles  refused  to  do  her  bid 
ding,  so  cramped  were  they. 

372 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        373 

On  the  other  hand  the  pain  caused  by  the  jarring 
of  the  wagon  had  aroused  David;  and  this,  combined 
with  the  rising  fever,  brightened  alike  his  eyes  and  his 
understanding,  and  made  him  appear  deceptively 
better.  It  was,  therefore,  easier  than  it  might  have 
been  to  persuade  her  to  the  cruel,  yet  unavoidable, 
step  of  permitting  Dick  to  carry  the  wounded  man 
on  to  the  ranch-house. 

As  David  had  clung  to  her  hand  during  the  rough 
trip  from  the  arroyo,  there  had  been  scarcely  a  word 
uttered;  but  habit  is  strong,  and  it  had  so  long  been 
David's  habit,  to  think  first  and  above  all  others  for 
her,  even  whilst  submitting  to  the  great  sacrifice,  to 
protect  her  in  every  way  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
that  he  stood  by  Dick  now.  Mustering  all  the  feeble 
strength  at  his  command,  he  cajoled  her  into  believ 
ing  not  merely  the  truth — that  she  had  saved  his  life 
— but  also  the  untruth,  that  with  the  cessation  of  the 
bleeding  danger  and  pain  were  practically  at  an  end. 
It  was  the  best  he  could  do,  and  he  did  it.  But  as  the 
wagon  rolled  upon  its  way  past  the  Spring  he  fell 
back  on  his  pillows  with  a  groan  the  deeper  and  the 
more  bitter  for  its  long  repression. 

The  excitement  created  by  Cristol's  grand  coup 
spread  with  the  rapidity  of  a  prairie-fire.  There 
never  had  been  a  lynching  in  that  section;  but  when 


374        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

certain  irrefutable  evidences  of  Berry's  worse  than 
complicity  in  the  late  succession  of  cattle-stealings 
came  to  light,  matters  looked  serious  for  Berry.  In 
the  opinion  of  the  cattle-men  and  cow-boys  this  crime 
far  outweighed  the  one  of  train-robbing.  So  red-hot 
was  the  indignation  that  from  the  outset  the  chances 
of  hanging  a  jury,  or  any  of  the  customary  per 
formances  for  getting  a  big  man  like  Berry  off,  looked 
poor  indeed.  Rarely  had  an  influential  citizen  found 
himself  so  feebly  supported.  The  shooting  of  his 
son,  caught  in  the  act,  and  the  arrest  of  the  "  tough 
est  "  members  of  the  gang,  perceptibly  dampened  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  entire  Berry  crowd.  Moreover, 
Kingdon's  condition  added  fuel  to  the  fire.  The  rail 
road  was  welcome  to  attend  to  its  own  robbery  busi 
ness  ;  Kingdon  in  time,  it  was  hoped,  could  "  do  up  " 
Long  Tom  for  the  murder  of  the  cow-boy,  Tim,  but 
the  cattle-men  were  to  a  man  resolved  on  seeing  to  it 
that  Berry  got  his  deserts.  The  evidence  they  desired 
was  now  ready  to  their  hands ;  the  caves  were  replete 
with  such;  and  even  amongst  the  herd  of  choice 
cows  kept  quietly  at  this  isolated  ranch  cattle-men 
were  already  claiming  their  own.  The  well-known 
"  B "  on  crossed  sticks  was  branded  fresh  over  old 
and  other  marks. 

For  a  couple  of  days  there  was  lively  coming  and 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         375 

going  on-  the  mountain,  ere  the  prisoners  were  pro 
nounced  fit  for  the  rough  trip  to  the  county  town. 
The  murmurs  of  lynching  had  been  met  by  Cristol 
with  his  usual  grim  business-smile.  The  murmurs 
died  away  before  that  impenetrable  mien  of  his.  And 
it  was  a  matter  of  history  that  the  sheriff,  whilst 
always  ready  to  give  his  life  in  the  exercise  of  his  pro 
fession,  was  equally  ready  to  give  it  in  the  interests 
of  the  law.  It  would  be  over  his  body  that  the  lynch- 
ers  would  have  to  pass. 

The  morning  following  the  capture  brought  both 
Mrs.  Johnson  and  Aunt  Julie  to  the  scene.  In  spite 
of  every  effort  to  the  contrary,  hints  of  Kingdon's 
dangerous  condition  found  their  way  to  Sylvia's  ears, 
and  for  a  while  it  looked  as  though  self-control  and 
reasonableness  were  alike  failing  her.  And  when 
a  sheriff  of  repute  has  been  heard  to  remark  that  he 
had  never  shot  his  man  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty 
without  a  sense  of  reluctance,  it  may  well  be  forgiven 
Sylvia  if  for  weeks  the  vision  of  Vin  Berry's  ghastly 
face  upon  the  edge  of  the  barricade  was  with  her 
night  and  day.  With  such  visitations  reason  has 
little  to  do,  however.  That  she  was  the  actual  slayer 
of  the  train-robber  no  one  knew  except  Dick ;  and  he 
kept  his  own  counsel  until  the  day  arrived  when  David 
knew  it,  too.  Even  Johnny  was  never  told. 


376        THE  HUMAN   TOUCH 

It  was  at  this  crisis  in  the  lives  of  her  friends  that 
Johnny  showed  herself  at  her  brightest  and  best. 
Though  with  a  heart  almost  breaking  with  the  dread 
of  losing  her  "Davie,"  she  contrived  from  time  to 
time  to  visit  and  reassure  Sylvia ;  not,  however,  with 
out  the  inward  reservation,  that,  should  he  in  very 
truth  have  to  cross  the  dark  river,  the  hand  of  her 
whom  he  had  loved  with  an  .honour  and  constancy  of 
which  few  had  deemed  him  capable  should  lie  at  the 
last  within  his  own,  her  face  be  the  last  his  eyes 
should  rest  upon. 

But  David  did  not  die.  No  such  simple  solution 
of  life's  complexities  befell  himself  or  Sylvia. 

As  soon  as  it  was  considered  safe  to  remove  him 
he  would  be  taken  to  the  county  town,  where  the 
preliminary  examination  of  the  prisoners  was  to  be 
held;  and  Sylvia,  in  a  measure  comforted  by  the 
assurance  that  he  was  saved  from  death,  yielded  to 
the  Hendricks'  urgency,  and  without  even  seeing  him 
again  betook  herself  to  the  Rectory  at  Mendoza 
City,  there  to  consider  what  was  best  to  be  done  with 
her  mutilated  existence.  She  was  by  this  time  rea 
sonable  enough  to  allow  that,  in  a  world  arranged 
after  the  surely  unique  and  apparently  wasteful 
fashion  of  the  one  in  which  we  are  set  to  dree  our 
little  weird,  there  must  be  other  lives  besides  her  own 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        377 

also  maimed  and  broken.  Also  that  they  go  on, 
many  of  them,  to  good  purpose.  David  needed  her 
no  longer;  or  at  least  only  in  the  heartrending  man 
ner  in  which  each  must  always  need  the  other. 
Obvious  perils  were  at  an  end  for  him,  and  this  partly 
through  her  agency. 

But  even  the  persistent  silence  of  the  few  friends 
acquainted  with  her  participation  in  the  Berry  ranch 
affair  could  not  always  protect  her  from  comment. 
Her  very  appearance  was  against  her,  in  that  it  did 
not  accord  with  its  environment.  Mrs.  Hendrick, 
therefore,  left  her  home,  and  the  two  women  went 
down  to  Mexico  for  a  time. 

For  in  Sylvia's  case,  as  in  that  of  some  other 
women  who  have  drunk  life's  cup  to  its  bitterest 
dregs,  feminine  devotion  in  its  strongest  form  seemed 
to  be  specially  reserved.  Mrs.  Hendrick's  devotion 
emulated  that  of  Johnny  herself.  And  she  who  re 
ceived  strove  to  «repay,  so  far  as  she  was  able,  the 
full  measure  meted  out  to  her.  By  a  supreme  effort 
she  gathered  herself  together.  There  must  still  be 
some  work  in  the  world  for  her. 

Letters  came,  of  course ;  but  to  Buckley  and  to 
Mrs.  De  Lancey  alone,  of  all  her  circle,  was  the  true 
story  ever  revealed.  The  former's  brief  but  char 
acteristic  comments  reached  her  first. 


378        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"Do  not  come  to  me,"  she  had  written  to  him — 
"at  least  not  yet.  I  need  to  grow  strong  first,  and 
I  am  not  strong  yet.  In  time  I  will  come  back  to 
my  world,  clothed,  and  in  my  right  mind.  But  give 
me  time." 

And  as  the  faithful  Johnny  clasped  her  in  her 
arms  in  farewell,  she  whispered  through  her  tears: 

"This  mayn't  be  so  as  it  goes  on  forever.  It 
can't,  my  dearie!  God  ain't  cruel!" 


CHAPTER   XXX 

IT  was  the  fall  of  the  same  year.     Clairette  had 
returned  to  Kingdon's  Crossing  with  the  Gerry- 
Smiths,  who  shortly  after  removed  themselves 
and  their  camping  outfit  to  the  inconspicuous  Middle- 
Western  city  where  they,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the 
word,  belonged. 

Their  farewells,  and  urgent  appeals  to  "  dear  Mrs. 
Kingdon "  to  follow,  had  scarcely  ceased  to  disturb 
the  dusty  placidity  of  the  Pullman  before  things  began 
to  go  wrong  with  Clairette.  Renewed  health  brought 
back  the  former  spirit.  Nothing  suited  her;  and 
David,  never  precisely  an  angel,  was  not  at  present 
in  condition  to  endure  the  ceaseless  wear  and  fret. 
Clairette  expressed  but  faint  interest  in  the  affray 
that  had  been  the  cause  of  his  illness,  believing  that 
such  matters  were  not  fit  for  the  contemplation  of 
women  of  refinement ;  and  because  he  kept  his  colour, 
she  failed  to  observe  the  lines  that  the  last  year  or  two 
had  drawn  around  his  eyes,  or  the  slight  hollows  at 
his  temples,  above  the  full,  firm  cheeks.  She  did 
observe,  however,  and  strongly  object  to,  the  stray 

379 


380        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

white  hairs  in  the  brown  head  she  had  always,  and 
consistently,  admired. 

"  David,"  she  said,  suddenly,  one  day,  as  he  pulled 
out  the  card  table  for  the  inevitable  after-dinner 
game  before  she  took  her  nap,  "  it's  awfully  lonely 
here  without  the  Gerry-Smiths — just  our  two  selves. 
Don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  say  that  I  do ;  I'm  too  busy.  Then 
you  know  I'm  tremendously  interested  in  this  trial 
that  is  coming  off  at  the  fall  Court ;  it's  a  big  thing. 
I  really  believe,  Clairette,  it  would  interest  you,  too. 
There's  scarcely  a  person  in  the  whole  country,  man 
or  woman,  who's  not  excited  over  it." 

"Women,  perhaps — not  ladies,"  retorted  Clairette, 
with  languid  emphasis.  "You  never  seem  able  to 
remember,  David,  the  way  I  was  raised ! " 

David's  thoughts  involuntarily  flew  to  another 
woman,  and  the  way  she  had  been  raised,  and  then 
recollected  the  home  of  Clairette!  But  he  kept 
silence,  though  his  heart  was  hot  within  him.  Then 
he  tried  again. 

"  Well,  it  is  dull  for  you,  now  that  you're  so  much 
stronger.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  away  again  for 
a  bit?" 

"Without  you?"  This  time  there  was  complaint 
in  her  tones.  "  David,  I  must  say  it  doesn't  look  well 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        381 

for  husbands  and  wives  always  to  go  around  sepa 
rately,  as  long  as  they  are  husbands  and  wives. 
You're  forever  glued  to  this  old  ranch!" 

"  When  that  trial's  over  I  can  go  with  you." 

He  spoke  quietly,  but  with  an  effort. 

Clairette  fidgetted  uneasily  with  the  cards.  At 
last  she  broke  out: 

"I  think  we  acted  foolishly  in  coming  together 
again." 

David  turned  and  looked  at  her,  his  heart  beating 
madly. 

"  Yes,"  she  went  on,  "  we're  not  suited  nowadays 
— less  so  even  than  we  were  before.  You've  changed 
somehow.  You  used  to  love  society  same  as  I  do,  and 
you  was  awfully  popular  at  Jonesville — and  you  know 
it!  That  was  one  thing  we  thought  alike  on  before 
we  married,  going  out  and  having  a  good  time.  But 
you  never  was  quite  the  same  about  it  afterward,  and 
since  you  stayed  so  long  in  New  York  city  you  don't 
seem 'to  care  whether  you  have  any  society  or  not.  I'm 
sure  I  don't  know  what's  struck  you!  Old  friends, 
like  the  Gerry-Smiths,  can't  help  but  notice  it.  It 
makes  me  feel  awfully  to  have  them  talk  that  way. 
It's  pretty  hard  on  me,  I  can  tell  you !  I  always  did 
hate  this  God-forsaken  country !  " 

"  Clairette  " — David's  voice  was  stern  from  a  con- 


382        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

flict  of  emotions — "  Clairette,  haven't  I  tried  to  do 
everything  you  wished?" 

"  Yes,  yes !  You've  been  good  and  all  that,  I'm 
willing  to  own,  but  you  have  changed  somehow, 
David!" 

"For  the  better  or  the  worse?"  he  inquired, 
grimly. 

"  Oh,  for  the  better  in  some  ways.  But  that  don't 
alter  what  I  say.  And,  somehow,  now  that  my  health's 
improved  so  much,  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  that  other 
wife.  I  didn't  mind  while  I  was  so  sick.  Then  the 
Gerry-Smiths  sort  of  got  on  to  it :  I  don't  know  how, 
and  they  hardly  knew  anything.  But  sometimes  I  get 

a  notion  I  put  too  much  faith  in  her Oh, 

David!  "  Her  voice  broke  in  a  cry.  "  Don't  look  at 
me  that  way ! " 

For  he  had  leaped  to  his  feet,  thunderclouds  in  his 
eyes.  Speak  he  dared  not. 

Was  this  the  reward  of  a  conflict  which  might  have 
made  the  very  angels  weep  for  pity? 

He  took  a  turn  in  the  room,  came  back,  seated  him 
self  beside  his  wife,  and  clasped  her  hands  gently  in 
his  own. 

"Clariette — tell  me — how  have  I  sinned  against 
you?" 

She  pulled  her  hands  away. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         383 

"Sinned?  I  didn't  say  sinned!  How  hasty  you 
are,  David!  You've  acted  all  right  about  that.  I 
didn't  say  you  hadn't." 

"  Then  what  did  you  mean  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"— petulantly— "nothing!  If 
you  was  a  woman,  you'd  know  how  little  I  did  mean ! 
I'm  just  sick  to  death  of  this  kind  of  life,  that's  all. 
You  wrapped  up  in  your  old  cow-business,  and  I  sit 
ting  pining  for  the  society-life  I  was  meant  for,  and 
used  to  have  all  the  time.  Mr.  Gerry-Smith" — here 
she  flushed  slightly,  the  tears  rising — "said  it  was  a 
shame  to  see  how  I'm  wasted  down  here,  with  all  my 
advantages — and  looks — and " 

She  was  weeping  now. 

"  Clairette,  do  you  want  me  to  take  you  back 
to  Jonesville?  It  will  not  be  long  now  before  I 
shall  be  free  to  go.  We  can  remain  there  several 
weeks." 

David  spoke  very  gently.  It  was  only  the  old  story, 
after  all. 

"  No !"  she  sobbed.  "  It  wouldn't  be  any  use !  You 
don't  care  for  the  things  I  do,  and  you  wouldn't  like 
Jonesville  any  better  than  I  like  this  hateful  old 
desert.  We're  not  suited,  I  tell  you!  And  it  wasn't 
as  if  we  had  children." 

David  winced. 


384        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  There  it  is ! "  she  cried,  irritably — "  the  everlast 
ing  old  grievance!  You'd  have  liked  to  have  seen  me 
dragged  to  death  by  half  a  dozen  young  ones,  tied  at 
home  and  getting  no  pleasure  out  of  living ! " 

"  Never  mind  that  old  grievance,"  said  David,  still 
quietly ;  "  it  doesn't  belong  in  our  life  now.  Let's  try 
to  meet  the  present  trouble." 

"I've  just  told  you  about  it,  haven't  I?"  snapped 
Clairette.  "  You  never  used  to  be  dull,  David,  with  all 
your  faults!  Can't  you  get  into  your  head  what  I 
mean  when  I  say  we're  not  suited  and  it's  no  use 
to  try?" 

Then  light  came  to  David.  It  is  probable  that  in 
this  moment  he  saw  everything  more  clearly  than  did 
Clairette  herself. 

Even  a  husband  bound  by  ties  of  duty  only  could 
not  suffer  such  a  shock  unmoved.  He  arose,  and  his 
voice  was  like  ice. 

"  You  want  a  divorce,  I  presume  ?  "  he  said.  "  How 
do  you  propose  to  get  one  ?  " 

"Oh,  that'll  be  easy  enough!"  Her  cheeks  were 
still  flushed,  and  she  spoke  rapidly.  "I'll  go  home, 
and  you  can  sue  me  for  desertion.  There's  nothing 
scandalous  about  that ;  it's  done  every  day.  Of  course, 
you'll  arrange  privately  to  settle  something  on  me — 
I  mean,  more  than  the  judge  will  allow." 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         385 

"  Have  you  never  heard  of  the  law  concerning  col 
lusion?" 

David's  voice  was  still  cold. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care !  I'm  going  away,  anyhow,"  she 
began  again,  sullenly.  "  You  can  fix  it  to  suit  your 
self.  I'm  not  going  to  oppose  you — don't  be  afraid ! 
But  I  can  give  you  what's  called  4  cause,'  if  you  want  ? 
Oh,  nothing  really!"  she  added,  hurriedly,  shrinking 
from  the  flash  of  her  husband's  glance.  "I'll  take 
care  of  your  name,  all  right — and  my  own,  too. 
Brought  up  as  I've  been,  in  refined  circles,  you  don't 
think  I'd  get  myself  talked  about,  do  you?" 

David  did  not  move  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  he 
left  the  room. 

His  heart  was  hot  within  him.  Even  the  possibility 
of  release  from  the  growing  insupportability  of  his 
chains  offered  at  present  no  balm  for  this  wound, 
although  dealt  by  a  hand  he  did  not  love. 

Unquestionably  the  possession  of  a  hide  rather  than 
a  skin  must  be  an  unspeakable  advantage  in  compli 
cated  situations  such  as  this  one. 

He  went  out  to  the  barn — his  favourite  sulking- 
ground,  as  Clairette  called  it — and  flung  himself  down 
on  the  sweet  gramma  hay,  much  as  he  had  done  on  n 
memorable  occasion  in  the  past,  only  this  time  with  a 
difference. 


386        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Then  it  had  seemed  as  if  the  very  heart  of  him  was 
breaking.  Now,  what  was  it  ? 

The  resentment  and  bitterness  which  had  been 
accumulating  during  long,  uncheered  months  were  for 
the  moment  all  of  life  to  this  complex  nature. 

He  had  tried!  God — and  Sylvia,  perhaps — knew 
how  he  had  tried!  And  she  for  whom  they  both,  he 
and  Sylvia,  had  sacrificed  everything,  life  itself — and 
as  he  thought  of  the  child,  he  sat  up  and  held  his  head 
between  his  hands — cared  nothing — no  whit. 

When  at  length  the  flaming  sense  of  injury 
smouldered  down  to  a  slow  fire,  the  paler  light  of  rea 
son  arose  to  illumine  the  darkness  of  his  spirit.  The 
habit  of  reticence,  which  had  returned  upon  him  with 
redoubled  force  after  the  loss  of  Sylvia,  was  rarely 
broken  now ;  but  he  suddenly  resolved  to  go  to  Johnny. 

The  men  were  all  out.  He  took  his  horse  from  the 
corral,  saddled,  bridled,  and  mounted  it.  After  the 
fight  near  Bubbling  Spring  there  had  arisen  a 
question  of  whether  or  no  he  could  prudently  take  the 
Boy  to  Kingdon's  Crossing.  It  had  been  decided  that 
such  a  step  would  be  unwise  for  the  present,  the  horse 
having  acquired  some  notoriety.  Mrs.  Johnson, 
therefore,  kept  him,  until  such  time  as  David  might 
reasonably  be  considered  to  have  purchased  the  fastest 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         387 

horse  on  the  ranges.  But  David  had  visited  him 
often,  caressing  him  with  thoughts  that  might  not 
be  uttered. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  Antelope  Canon, 
having  left  a  message  that  he  had  been  called  up  the 
mountain  and  would  not  be  back  until  the  next  morn 
ing,  Johnny  was  working  in  her  late  cabbages.  After 
one  glance  at  his  face,  she  shouldered  her  hoe  and 
marched  before  him  to  the  little  porch. 

"  Tie  your  horse  and  come  in.  Teddy  '11  see  to  him 
after  a  while,"  she  said,  pulling  off  her  huge  gloves ; 
"  I'm  a-goin'  to  take  a  restin'  spell." 

And  as  they  sat  thus — the  two  old  friends,  in  the 
silence  of  the  canon,  the  only  sound  Ted's  cheery 
whistle  as  he  let  the  water  into  the  small  irrigating 
ditches,  or  Nino's  frantic  barks  as  he  pawed  at  real 
or  imaginary  fishes  in  the  running  stream — the  flood 
gates  of  David's  soul  were  unloosed  also. 

Here  was  a  case  for  the  exercise  of  sturdy  common 
sense  rather  than  for  mawkish  sympathy;  and  the 
shrewd  woman  knew  it. 

"Them  as  looks  for  rewards  in  this  world  for 
a-doin'  what's  right  or  kind  has  got  all  the  waitin' 
they  can  ask  for;  they  can  wait!  And  now,  Davie," 
she  concluded,  "  th'  ain't  no  need  to  say  to  you,  re 
member  as  she's  your  wife!  You  ain't  never  forgot 


388         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

it,  as  I  knows  on,  hard  as  was  the  row  you  had  to 
hoe." 

"  I  have  seen  her  twice  since " 

He  turned,  and  met  squarely  the  eyes  of  his  friend. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  as  I  know'd  it  ?  "  she  retorted. 
"  My  poor  boy !  Not  an  angel  in  God's  heaven  could 
set  it  up  to  you  on  that  1  You  see  your  own  child  oncet 
livin',  an'  you  see  the  sweet  lamb  die.  God  ain't  so 
hard  as  men  an'  woman  is,  Davie." 

Her  voice  broke.     Then  she  resumed  resolutely: 

"  Now  in  the  mornin'  you  go  home,  an'  act  same  's 
usual.  Don't  fuss  with  her.  Give  her  her  head.  You 
done  the  best  you  know  how.  She  thinks  as  how  she 
can  get  herself  better  suited.  Maybe  she  can ;  you  an' 
her  wa'n't  never,  so  to  speak,  a  match  team.  But 
don't  so  much  as  grease  the  wheels  for  her!  Let 
her  rip!" 

The  work-worn  hand  of  the  mountain  woman  lay  in 
her  lap.  As  once  in  the  far-back  past  David  had 
raised  to  his  lips  the  soft  fingers  of  the  New  York 
woman  of  fashion,  whose  maternal  heart  had  gone  out 
to  him  in  something  of  the  same  manner  as  Johnny's 
had  done,  so  now  he  raised  and  touched  lightly  with 
his  lips  the  rough  fingers  of  this  other  woman,  who  also 
loved  him. 

"Thank  you,  Johnny,"  he  said,  simply. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         389 

He  arrived  at  home  the  next  day  in  time  to  take  his 
wife  for  her  morning  drive ;  and  as  he  assisted  her  into 
the  buggy  she  observed  that  his  eyes  were  once  more 
clear. 

"That's  over,  thank  goodness!"  she  ejaculated, 
devoutly. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

TO  go  in  detail  into  the  vagaries  of  law,  as 
opposed  to  justice,  when  exerted  in  favour  of 
"  an  influential  and  prominent  citizen " 
would  surely  be  an  unnecessary  expenditure  of 
energy.  Any  person  acquainted,  however  superfi 
cially,  with  such  creditable  national  exhibitions  as  that 
of  the  trial  of  a  powerful  clique,  the  head  of  whom 
is  not  only  a  prominent  citizen,  but,  what  is  more  to 
the  point,  a  prominent  politician  also,  can  picture 
without  undue  effort  the  scenes  that  ensued.  Yet  this 
particular  trial  was  looked  back  upon  as  one  notable 
in  Territorial  history,  for  other  reasons  besides  the 
startling  fact  that  it  closed  with  the  administration  of 
strict  and  impartial  justice.  The  large  stock-owners 
hung  together  like  a  menacing  war-cloud  in  the  rear 
of  the  various  indictments  against  Berry;  they  were 
a  force  to  be  reckoned  with. 

The  supporters  of  the  Berry  faction  had  by 
this  time  rallied — to  some  extent;  self -protection 
demanded  it,  if  nothing  else.  Money  changed  hands 
rapidly  and  in  quantity.  Two  or  three  of  the  acutest 

390 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         391 

and  most  unscrupulous  lawyers  the  Territory  could 
furnish  had  been  long  since  pre-engaged  by  the  faction 
in  case  of  the  failure  of  any  of  their  schemes ;  and  now 
their  time  had  come  with  a  vengeance ! 

For  a  while  things  looked  a  trifle  serious  for  the 
prosecution.  There  arrive  moments  when  juries — for 
the  most  part  composed  of  Mexicans — are  for  sale; 
and  nothing  proved  so  effective  in  averting  such  a  dis 
aster  as  the  war  cloud  aforementioned.  Mexicans  .are 
rarely  apt  to  err  on  the  side  of  rashness,  where  per 
sonal  safety  is  concerned.  Every  subterfuge  afforded 
by  the  wide  latitude  of  the  law  was  taken  full  advan 
tage  of ;  and  Cristol  and  Kingdon,  in  particular,  were 
subjected  to  a  court- room  bullying  which  tried  the 
tatter's  high  and  unaccustomed  spirit  to  the  verge  of 
its  endurance.  Indeed,  nothing  but  the  necessity  of 
keeping  Sylvia's  name  out  of  the  business  gave  him 
the  strength  to  endure  so  much  and  so  long. 

Prompted  by  Berry  himself,  his  attorneys  spent 
hours  in  the  endeavour  to  ferret  out  "the  woman  in 
the  case."  But  Kingdon's  allies  remained  staunch; 
the  power  of  attracting  and  holding  decent  men  had 
never  stood  David  in  better  stead.  As  for  Carlos, 
hatred  of  Berry  and  sumptuous  bribes  together  com 
bined  to  keep  him  silent  on  the  subject  of  the  kid 
napping. 


392         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

The  trial  had  not  come  to  an  end  before  Mr.  Ather- 
ton  left  the  court-room  with  very  much  the  air  of  a 
whipped  cur ;  and  this  not  because  he  was  shocked  at 
his  own  criminal  want  of  perspicuity — well-meaning 
blockheads  rarely  see  any  criminality  in  persistent 
abuse  of  the  wrong  person — but  because  he  was  out 
raged  by  the  revelations  brought  out  by  the  prosecu 
tion  regarding  his  beloved  "elder."  For  everything 
was  raked  up  by  the  old  man's  enemies;  not  a  stone 
was.  left  unturned. 

David,  like  the  majority  of  hot-headed  persons,  was 
not  given  to  harbouring  malice,  and  would  willingly 
have  evaded  certain  questions  put  to  him  in  connection 
with  his  enemy's  past ;  but  this  he  was  not  permitted  to 
do.  Nevertheless,  as  has  been  said,  even  the  efforts  of 
an  untiring  prosecution  might  have  failed  in  part, 
had  it  not  been  that  actual  fear  of  bodily  violence 
nipped  in  the  bud  the  customary  resort  to  an  ap 
peal. 

Cases  as  rotten  to  the  core  as  this  one  have  been 
appealed,  and  successfully,  a  hundred  times  and  over ; 
but  those  would  have  been  bold  men  of  law  who  would 
have  attempted  such  a  coarse  on  this  occasion.  In 
short,  Berry's  supporters  were  thoroughly  well  bull 
dozed  ;  and  for  once  bulldozing  was  exerted  in  a  right 
eous  cause.  When  the  Court  adjourned  it  had 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        393 

delivered  the  following  verdicts :  for  Berry,  practically 
a  life  term  in  the  penitentiary;  for  Long  Tom,  the 
death  penalty ;  for  the  other  members  of  the  gang 
varying  tenns  of  incarceration ;  for  Bob  Jones,  who 
had  turned  State's  evidence,  a  dismissal. 

It  was  with  a  deep  sense  of  relief  that  Kingdon 
boarded  the  train  which  was  to  carry  him  away  from 
the  dusty  county  town.  For  him  there  was  not  only 
the  satisfaction  of  the  just  man  who  has  beheld  justice 
triumphant,  but  also  the  profound  joy  of  knowing 
that  he,  with  the  aid  of  his  friends,  had  prevented  the 
name  of  the  woman  he  loved  from  being  dragged  into, 
and  sullied  by  the  filth  of,  the  court-room. 

During  his  absence  his  mind  had  barely  reverted 
to  the  singular  conversation  he  had  held  with  Clairette 
some  few  weeks  earlier;  indeed,  he  had  soon  grown  to 
consider  it  as  merely  one  of  her  whims.  The  exciting 
events  of  the  trial  had  soon  submerged  the  memory 
of  it. 

As  he  walked  up  to  the  house  he  was  even  humming 
to  himself  one  of  his  little  French  songs  of  old,  so 
intense  was  his  relief.  But  the  gay  and  tender  air  died 
on  his  lips  upon  observing  that  not  only  were  windows 
and  blinds  closed  against  the  sunlit  November  day, 
but  that  the  door  of  the  house  was  locked  as  well  as 
shut. 


394        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Going  around  to  the  back,  he  found  the  "  Chino  " 
smoking  a  cigarette  in  unhurried  enjoyment,  and  a 
glance  in  the  direction  of  barns  and  corrals  told  him 
that  all  was  as  usual  there,  the  men  busy  preparing 
for  a  shipment  of  cattle  to  which  Dick  was  attending 
at  the  mountain  ranch. 

Wung's  pigeon-English  cleared  up  the  mystery  in 
so  far  as  it  directed  him  to  his  own  den,  upon  the  desk 
of  which  he  found  an  envelope  representing  the  latest 
fad  in  stationery,  and  addressed  to  himself  in  Clair- 
ette's  newest  handwriting — that  is  to  say,  the  last 
ordained  by  fashion  as  chic.  Life  has  its  arduous  side 
for  those  whose  writing  as  well  as  reading  is  conducted 
on  such  anxious  lines  as  Style  demands. 

"  I  tried,"  she  wrote,  "  to  have  a  quiet,  sensible  chat 
with  you  some  time  since  about  our  affairs;  but  you 
got  so  excited  I  just  had  to  give  it  up,  for  you  know 
excitement  is  so  bad  for  me !  And  then  you  were  quite 
taken  up  with  your  own  matters.  I  see  that  you  pre 
fer  vulgar  court-rooms  to  the  refined  home  I  have  tried 
to  make  for  you.  Now  you  must  go  your  own  way. 
I  told  you  I  was  sick  to  death  of  this  place,  and  of  the 
life  here.  I  have  not  yet  decided  what  I  will  do 
exactly,  and  of  course  it  is  my  duty  to  think  first  of 
my  health.  I  will  also  be  careful  not  to  get  talked 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

about,  and  will  have  a  chaperon  wherever  I  am.     You 
see  how  I  think  for  you.     I  shall  go  first  to  Jon.- 
ville,  where  you  can  send  a  remittance,  and  shall  then 
be  guided  by  the  state  of  my  health,  which  is  so  very 
important.  "  CLAIRETTE. 

"  P.  S.  Of  course  I  have  taken  my  jewels.  I  am 
entitled  to  them,  and  to  your  support  as  your  faithful 
wife." 

David's  action  on  concluding  the  hasty  reading  of 
the  above  characteristic  epistle  was  characteristic,  too, 
of  the  man.  His  face  Clairette  might  not  have  cared 
to  behold. 

Sitting  down  to  his  desk,  he  unlocked  a  drawer, 
pulled  out  his  cheque  book — his  personal  cheques  were 
good  at  Jonesville — and  writing  one  to  the  order  of 
his  wife  for  a  preposterously  large  amount,  put  it  in 
an  envelope,  and  addressed  it  to  her  at  Jonesville. 

This  done,  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  his  eyes 
wandering  to  the  window  he  had  flung  wide  open  upon 
his  first  entrance.  And  as  his  abstracted  gaze  was 
gradually,  so  to  speak,  drawn  into  and  absorbed  by 
the  peace  and  purity  of  the  noon  sky,  his  hot  anger 
cooled  to  the  touch  of  something  that  was  as  a  refresh 
ing  rain  upon  burning  sand. 

What  was  that  something? 


396        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

There  was  a  faint  smile  on  his  lips,  when  half  an 
hour  later  one  of  the  men  presented  himself  for  orders, 
with  the  additional  information  that  "the  stock  has 
came." 

David  sprang  up,  dismissing  vague  dreams  with  a 
sigh,  and  was  at  once  his  practical,  vigorous  self. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

EIGHT  or  nine  months  later  Sylvia,  down  in 
Old  Mexico,  received  a  letter  from  Johnny, 
written  not  quite  in  the  usual  strain.  She 
had  come  to  love  these  letters,  in  spite  of  an  almost 
total  absence  of  punctuation  and  other  details  deemed 
necessary  to  polite  penmanship.  They  represented  one 
of  the  few  strictly  personal  interests  left  in  her  life; 
for  Sylvia  had  found  her  work. 

That  winter  there  had  been  an  even  severer  outburst 
than  was  customary  of  the  Mexican  national  plague, 
smallpox.  In  the  city  to  which  she  and  Mrs.  Hendrick 
had  betaken  themselves  were  located  extensive  Ameri 
can  machine  shops.  Consequently  the  American  work- 
ingman  and  his  belongings  were  unusually  in  evidence. 
Carelessness  as  regards  health  regulations  prevailed  in 
this  Mexican  city,  as  in  most  others.  There  was  but 
one  American  physician,  and  vaccination  was  resorted 
to  by  the  minority  of  the  population. 

Sylvia  had  by  this  time  recovered  from  her  mor 
bidity  concerning  children.  Nature  had  reasserted 
itself,  and  the  maternal  sentiment,  non-existent  in 

397 


398        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

many  of  her  sex,  was  in  her  once  more  visible.  When 
the  viruela  spread  to  the  American  settlement  she 
drove  Mrs.  Hendrick  back  to  her  husband  and  home, 
persisting  with  equal  firmness  in  remaining,  her 
self. 

"  No,"  she  replied  to  her  friend's  pleading,  "  the 
father  of  Jack  and  Benny  " — two  small  boys  particu 
larly  attached  to  her  person — "is  already  down  with 
the  smallpox.  The  mother  is  sure  to  follow.  Who  is 
going  to  look  after  the  children,  if  I  go  away?  Do 
you  think  I  am  going  to  leave  those  babies,  or  any 
other  babies  for  that  matter,  to  be  carried  off  to  some 
Mexican  adobe  if  they  fall  sick?  No ;  I  am  not!  And 
then  the  days  of  weaving  thrilling  romances  out  of 
smallpox  are  at  an  end.  I  shall  be  vaccinated — sev 
eral  times,  if  necessary — voila  tout!  Let  me  go  my 
own  way,  dear  kind  friend !  There  is  no  danger." 

Thus  the  matter  was  settled,  and  Mrs.  Hendrick 
departed. 

As  Sylvia  had  asserted,  there  was  no  romance  in  the 
situation,  and  just  as  she  was  getting  her  last  small 
patient  upon  its  feet  she  received  that  letter  from 
Johnny. 

For  some  time  she  failed  to  realise  its  import ;  for  it 
must  be  admitted  that  the  writer  had  not  made  herself 
clear  to  an  occupied  mind. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

"  Now,  my  dearie," — so  ran  part  of  the  letter — 
"I've  jes'  got  to  tell  you  somethin'.  Site's  a-stoppin' 
in  Oklahoma  since  warm  weather  come,  an'  it's  so  as 
her  health  could  stand  it.  I  don't  know  nothin'  about 
Oklahoma  law,  but  I  guess  as  she  does.  I'm  told  as 
she's  got  them  Gerry-Smiths  to  chappyrone  her;  but 
Davie's  all  right  to  take  the  advice  I  give  him  last  fall, 
an'  to  let  her  rip.  I'll  see  you  soon  as  you  come  north. 

"  Your  devoted, 

"  JOHNNY. 

"  P.  S.  Davie's  a-fixin'  things  so  as  to  have  Dick 
run  things  pretty  well  to  hisself.  And  I  do  hate  to 
worry  you  with  my  concerns,  but  me  an'  John — Cris- 
tol,  I  should  say — is  plannin'  to  get  married  one  o* 
these  days,  when  it's  so  as  you  is  better  fixed,  please 
God ! " 

The  effect  of  this  epistle  upon  Sylvia  was  twofold. 
First  it  resulted  in  an  affectionate  letter  to  Johnny 
herself,  brimming  over  with  good  wishes  to  her  two 
good  friends.  Then  Sylvia  wrote  a  note  to  Mrs. 
Hendrick : 

"  Find  me  work,  dear  Mrs.  Hendrick !  I  shall  leave 
here  to-morrow  for  the  frontier.  Send  me  anywhere 
you  will,  only  work  me  hard!" 


400        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

Sylvia  left  the  train  at  a  city  on  the  Mexican  side 
of  the  border,  there  to  be  fumigated  and  quarantined ; 
and  there  also  arrived  in  due  course  Mrs.  Hendrick's 
letter.  One  important  paragraph  ran  thus : 

"My  husband  has  started  a  small  creche  for  the 
benefit  of  working  mothers.  There  are,  of  course, 
very  few  such  mothers  in  our  city,  but  still  the  number 
is  increasing.  Here  is  work  for  you,  dear  Sylvia,  and 
work  I  think  you  will  like.  *  Society '  has  mostly  left 
town  for  the  summer,  so  that  we  are  almost  alone,  and 
you  can  live  simply  as  the  creche-m&iron,  if  you  so 
desire.  Aunt  Julie  is  well,  but  is  beginning  to  '  hone ' 
for  her  Mis'." 

And  Sylvia  did  so  decide.  When  the  brain  throbs 
with  fancies  that  must  not  be  indulged,  and  the  heart 
stirs — all  in  vain,  perchance — what  is  left  in  the  world 
but  work? 

Yet  in  the  cool  summer  dawns,  before  her  work 
awoke,  Sylvia  would  sometimes  arise,  and,  leaning  out 
of  her  window,  allow  her  eyes  to  wander  to  "  the  for 
bidden  thing  itself" — away  toward  the  jewelled  peaks 
beyond  which 

When  at  last  Johnny  came  down,  she  fully  explained 
her  somewhat  ambiguous  letter. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH        401 

"  Now,  my  dearie,  there's  somethin'  as  I  has  to  tell 
you.  I've  waited  till  my  mind  jes  cracked,  holdin'  in 
so  long,  an'  now  he  says,  '  Johnny,  suit  yourself  about 
it.'  So  I'm  a-goin'  to  suit  myself.  It  wa'n't  as  if  you 
was  one  o'  them  fool-women  as  don't  know  nothin' ; 
you've  got  a  heap  o'  sense;  you  ain't  a-goin'  to  git 
crazy*  over  perhaps  nothin'.  Well,  it's  this  way ;  you 
know  they  do  have  it  as  Oklahoma  law  is  a-goin'  to  be 
made  over,  but  as  things  is  now  divorces  is  pretty 
easy.  She's  over  there,  as  I  wrote  you,  an'  it  seems  as 
she's  raked  up  somethin'  to  show  cause  for  divorce.  O' 
course  she  ain't  got  nothin'  real  again'  our  Davie— 
that  couldn't  be — but  she's  made  herself  a  citizen,  an' 
it  '11  be  '  incompatability  o'  temper,'  or  some  sech  fool 
ishness.  Anyway,  Davie  ain't  a-goin'  again'  her — 
see?  If  papers  is  served  on  him,  he'll  hold  down  his 
chair  for  oncet — see?  Maybe  she'll  bring  suit  on 
account  o'  his  not  livin'  in  Jonesville — dear  knows 
what !  Most  anythin'  goes  in  Oklahoma,  John  allows. 
7  tell  Davie  as  he  could  bring  suit  hisself,  seein'  as 
she's  got  that  Gerry-Smith  along  of  her.  '  No,'  says 
he,  'I'm  a-layin'  low,  Johnny.  I'm  a-doin'  as  I've 
tried  to  do  right  along — what  slie'd  choose  for  me 
to  do'." 

And  Johnny  was  wise  enough  there  and  then  to 
abandon  the  subject;  it  would  not  bear  discussion. 


402         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

With  the  instinct  of  the  true  lover,  Sylvia's  first 
thought  was  for  David.  It  was  not  at  first  that  her 
own  human  spirit  awoke  and  strove  within  her. 

The  sun  was  drooping  in  the  bright  fall  sky  when 
Johnny  walked  in  one  day  unannounced.  Sylvia  sat 
in  a  rocker  by  the  window,  a  sleeping  baby  on  her 
breast.  Johnny  gently  disengaged  the  child  from  her 
arms,  handed  it  to  Aunt  Julie,  pushed  her  kindly  from 
the  room,  shut  the  door,  and  came  back. 

"  It's  all  done,"  she  said,  in  a  choked  voice.  "  He's 
a-waitin5  for  you  at  the  River  Ranch.  He  says  for 
you  to  come  there  an'  marry  him  again,  right  now. 
You're  not  to  wait.  That's  Davie ;  he  never  could 
abide  waitin' ! "  Johnny  was  laughing  hysterically. 
"  Mr.  Hendrick  has  got  there  already ;  David  took  him 
from  the  train  on  his  way  home.  The  preacher  says 
as  how  he's  seen  the  bishop,  an'  he  allows,  in  con- 
siderin'  o'  the  case,  that  it  ain't  jes'  like  others,  an* 
as  Mr.  Hendrick  can  marry  you  all  right.  But  oh, 
my  dearie,  don't  look  that  way ! " 

And  this  time,  there  being  no  cause  or  impediment 
regarding  that  matter  of  weeping,  Johnny  wept. 

There  was  the  familiar  quick  step  down  the  familiar 
hall.  The  door  opened  and  shut  with  like  promptitude. 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         403 

In  silence  the  two  clung  to  one  another — face  to 
face — heart  to  heart. 

In  those  first  solemn  moments  it  was  enough  that 
they  were  together;  that  there  was  none  to  come 
between  and  none  to  say  them  nay. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 
CONCLUSION 

"  They  climb  the  steep  ascent  of  Heaven 
Through  the  peril,  toil  and  pain " 

THE  words  of  the  quaint  old  hymn,  set  to 
the  quaint  old  lilt,  fell  softly  from  David's 
lips.     Hand  in  hand  they  had  ascended  the 
high  butte,  and  now  they  turned  and  looked  into  one 
another's  eyes — the  same  Sylvia,  the  same  David — 
marked  indeed  by  the  passage  of  the  full  years,  but 
the  same  still.     The  smile  was  still  for  each  other. 
Even  their  children,  whose  voices  floated  to  them  from 
below,  temporally  forgotten. 

The  capacity  for  suffering  is,  by  some  divinely 
appointed  law,  often  allied  with  the  capacity  for 
recuperation,  although  never  for  forgetfulness.  The 
early  weeks  of  reunion  were  for  these  two  as  those  first 
moments  for  the  strong  swimmer  when,  after  long 
battling  with  the  fierce  tide,  he  clings  at  last  to  the 
rock — saved,  yet  breathless  and  exhausted,  and  still 
fearful  lest  the  returning  wave  should  draw  him  again 
into  its  cruel  embrace. 

404 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         405 

But  with  natures  vigorous  as  those  of  David  and 
Sylvia  such  a  condition  could  not  long  endure,  and 
soon  the  desire  to  be  up  and  doing  began  to  stir  in 
their  veins  once  more.  The  old  existence  was,  however, 
by  tacit  acknowledgment  impossible  to  either;  and 
David  made  certain  arrangements  with  Cristol  and 
Dick  which  enabled  him  to  carry  his  wife  away  at  once 
on  an  extensive  travelling  trip.  Indeed,  he  had  for 
months  been  preparing  for  just  such  a  possibility; 
and  as  time  went  on,  these  two  friends  gradually 
bought  him  out. 

One  summer  evening,  a  few  months  after  their  mar 
riage,  as  they  were  gliding  down  the  St.  Lawrence  on 
one  of  the  regular  steamers,  Sylvia  had  broached  anew 
a  subject  which  during  their  first  marriage  had  often 
been  discussed  between  them.  She  had  been  dashing 
in  some  of  the  marvellous  colour-effects  to  be  seen  on 
those  beautiful  shores ;  but  now  the  light  was  fading, 
and  she  laid  down  her  brushes. 

Though  entirely  unconscious  of  the  fact,  David  and 
Sylvia  were  a  striking  couple;  and  it  was  in  large 
measure  due  to  this  circumstance  that,  as  they  grad 
ually  emerged  from  the  absorption  consequent  on  their 
past  experience,  they  were  drawn  into  association  with 
men  and  women  unlike  the  usual  run  of  tourists. 


406         THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

During  their  recent  stay  in  Montreal  and  Ottawa 
Canadian  politics  in  relation  to  a  closer  alliance  with 
the  United  States  had  been  brought  prominently  to 
their  notice.  Society  in  its  best  aspect  had  smiled  upon 
them,  and  David  and  Sylvia  had  reaped  the  advan 
tages  of  "  looking  interesting  and  distinguished." 
Where  others  were  passed  by,  they  received  notice  from 
men  and  women,  both  in  and  out  of  political  life,  whose 
notice  is  a  compliment  of  the  highest.  In  the  out 
spoken  discussions  that  had  resulted,  David  had  found 
himself,  a  little  to  his  own  surprise,  holding  forth  as 
he  had  done  in  the  old  days  to  Sylvia,  and  to  her  alone. 
The  abuses  prevalent  in  American  politics  had  inev 
itably  come  forward;  and  it  was  then  that  he  main 
tained  the  possibility  of  combining  a  fairly  clean 
political  record  with  success  in  the  political  world; 
quoting  a  few  scattered  instances  to  that  effect,  and 
even  asserting,  with  the  shining  eyes  and  the  mounting 
enthusiasm  of  the  David  of  old,  that  he  would  like  to 
exemplify  the  fact  in  his  own  person. 

His  words  had  sunk  into  the  heart  of  Sylvia,  and 
it  was  prompted  by  the  old  habit,  spontaneously 
readopted  by  both,  of  each  expecting  the  other  to 
follow  a  train  of  unuttered  thought,  that  she  said,  as 
she  washed  her  brushes  and  closed  her  colour-box: 

"  And  why  can  you  not,  David?  " 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         407 

"Why  can  I  not  what,  sweetest?" 

"  Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean ! "  she  retorted.  "  Don't 
pretend  to  be  stupid!  The  role  does  not  fit  you 
one  bit ! " 

It  did  not ;  Sylvia  was  right. 

The  long  and  earnest  conversation  which  followed 
was  as  the  dawn  of  a  new  life. 

In  the  early  days  of  their  first  marriage  there  had, 
as  we  know,  been  small  matters  in  which  the  two  were 
not,  of  necessity,  in  entire  accord.  But,  as  we  also 
know,  David  had  quickly  perceived  that  in  such  points 
of  disagreement  he  would  have  to  go  up ;  Sylvia  would 
never  come  down.  She  had  demanded  a  perfect  up 
rightness  of  him  in  word  and  deed ;  and  he  had  given 
it  to  her.  Prevarication  or  evasion  had  alike  become 
things  of  the  past.  Yet  hours  ensued  in  which  even 
his  strong  spirit  weakened,  and  he  would  exclaim  that 
an  absolutely  clean  record  in  politics  was  impossible; 
that  it  could  only  be  fairly  clean. 

"  I  shall  fail,  Sylvia,  on  those  lines ! "  he  exclaimed, 
more  than  once,  looking  at  her  with  the  old  engaging 
air  of  appeal. 

"  Fail,  then ! "  was  the  invariable  and  calm  response. 

And,  strange  to  say,  he  had  not  failed.  As  the 
"straight  man,"  David  fought  his  way  to  the  front, 
his  natural  acuteness  saving  him,  no  doubt,  from  many 


408        THE   HUMAN   TOUCH 

of  the  pitfalls  that  engulf  merely  honest  men.  Inch 
by  inch  he  had  wrested  success  from  the  hands  of  those 
who  would  gladly  have  denied  it  him,  and  in  the  face 
of  obstacles  which  not  even  his  personal  gifts  and 
graces  unaided  could  have  altogether  overcome.  But 
in  his  passing  hours  of  failure  there  was  one  who  never 
failed  him ;  and  that  one  was  Sylvia. 

That  he  should  be,  as  now,  Governor-elect  of  a  most 
important  Western  State,  was  to  her,  except  for  the 
reward  it  brought  to  him  and  the  prospect  of  redressing 
crying  wrongs,  a  small  matter ;  but  that  he  should  have 
passed  unscathed  through  the  mire  and  blood  of  poli 
tics  was  everything — to  Sylvia. 

Needless  to  add  that  she  had  nothing  now  to  dread 
from  home  or  its  letters.  There  she  was  an  honoured 
guest.  She  had  become  a  Personage,  and  Mrs.  New 
man's  hopes  were  fulfilled;  this  was  all  that  had  ever 
been  necessary.  As  the  wife  of  a  successful  and  much 
talked-of  man,  Sylvia  was  at  last  a  Success.  Now  that 
she  needed  love  and  encouragement  no  longer  she  had 
both  in  full  measure,  running  over — no  uncommon 
experience  in  this  best  of  all  possible  worlds. 

For  some  reason  known  only  to  himself,  Buckley, 
though  profuse,  for  him,  in  good  wishes  and  sym 
pathy,  lingered  on  the  other  side  much  of  his  time. 
The  two  saw  little  or  nothing  of  him.  This  was  a  grief 


THE   HUMAN   TOUCH         409 

to  both.  David,  possibly,  had  ideas  of  his  own  on  the 
subject.  If  so,  this  was  the  sole  instance  in  which  his 
old  secretiveness  was  brought  to  the  fore. 

Down  below,  Cristol  and  Johnny  waited  in  the 
wagon.  They  lived  now  at  the  River  Ranch,  and  it 
was  with  them  that  David  and  Sylvia  were  visiting, 
with  their  children.  Dick,  on  a  "  cuttin'  pony  " — a 
successor  to  the  old  hero — raced  with  the  two  elder 
boys,  but  the  third  had  climbed  the  butte,  and  now 
slipping  in  between  his  parents,  took  his  mother's  slim, 
fair  hand,  and  kissed  it  softly,  over  and  over  again. 

David  laughed. 

"  You  young  rascal !  Don't  you  know  yet  that  that 
hand  belongs  to  me  ?  " 

But  he  understood,  nevertheless;  few  indeed  were 
the  occasions  on  which  David  had  not  done  so.  And 
as  Sylvia  swept  the  brown  hair,  so  like  his  own,  from 
the  boy's  forehead,  and  the  child  looked  from  one  to 
the  other  with  grave,  questioning  eyes,  it  needed  not 
Sylvia's  wistful  glance  to  tell  David  that  her  heart 
was  back  in  the  past,  marked  only  by  a  lonely  cross 
upon  a  tiny  mound. 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  hers,  set  free  by  their  child. 

"  He  is  his  living  image !  "  he  said,  gently. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROW 

LOAN  DIPT. 

RENEWALS  ONLY— TEl.  NO.  642-3405 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below  c 

Rene,  J?  *£  *"*  t€LWhich  «*<"&. 

aewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall 


rxc.v-.i-  1 

lviAK^'69-i?.AM 

LOAN   DEPT. 

LD  21A-40?n-2 '69 
(J6057slO)476 — A-32 


Gener 
Universit 
F 


